“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, Captain,” Zenn said. “Would we, Jules?”
“No, it is not an experience to be passed by, I am told,” Jules said.
“It’s very kind of you, Captain,” Zenn said. “I know this must be a busy time, with the tunneling coming up.”
“It is the least I could do. The very least. After last night. And what you did for my Cleevus as well.” He turned to the waiting steward. “Thank you for guiding our guests down, Yed.”
“Of course, Captain,” he said, snapping off a brisk salute before turning to Zenn and Jules. “ I trust you will enjoy your visit to the chambers.” He stood smiling up at them. And stood. And smiled. At last, Jules realized what was called for. He held up his relay, and Yed held up his, accepting the tip.
“Thank you, Guest Vancouver,” he said, and trotted back the way he’d come.
“So, Novice Bodine,” the Captain said, gesturing for them to proceed down the corridor, “is this your first time aboard an Indra vessel?”
“No, actually.” She had, of course, been aboard an Indra ship before. But the frightful details of that encounter weren’t something she chose to revisit, at least voluntarily. “It was a long time ago,” she told him, and left it at that.
“And you?” the captain asked Jules.
“It is my first journey on such a craft,” Jules said. “I too am most grateful for your allowing us to see your wondrous Indra.”
“Don’t mention it,” the Captain said. “Although I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to speak with Groom Treth about your visit to her chambers. But I’m sure she’ll overlook the usual preconditions.”
“Preconditions?” Zenn said.
“Groom Treth is strict. About who is allowed into her chamber. And when. But Treth, like you, Novice, has a special interest in non-human creatures. Well, it goes with the territory, wouldn’t you say? I suspect you’ll be welcomed as a kindred soul.”
A minute later, they rounded a corner in the passageway and nearly collided with someone coming in the opposite direction. It was the young lieutenant, Stav Travosk.
“Captain,” he said. “Glad I ran into you.”
“Lieutenant, good morning,” the Captain said. “We’re just going aft to the chamber. You’re welcome to join us.”
“Thank you,” Stav said. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. We just received new marching orders, I’m afraid.”
“Oh?” the Captain said.
“Ambassador Noom informed me at breakfast. It seems we won’t be heading back to Eta Cephei just yet.”
“Really?” the Captain said. “I hope there’s not a problem.”
“No, no. Just diplomatic hair-splitting as far as I know. Loose ends in need of tying up. In any case, she tells me we’ve been recalled to Earth. We’ll be going back on the last shuttle.”
“The shuttle to Earth?” The Captain eyed his sleeve-screen. “It should be ready to cast off any minute. I’m sorry I won’t be able to see you and the Ambassador off personally. Please, convey my wishes for a safe journey.”
“I will, Captain.” Stav offered them all a quick smile. “Now the Ambassador will be waiting for me at the docking bay, so I’ll say goodbye. Thank you for everything.” He shook hands with the Captain, then turned to Zenn, again taking her hand. “Miss Bodine, until we meet again.” Zenn found this a quaint sort of thing to say. But, curiously, the way he said it made Zenn feel that they might very well meet once more. She also found that the prospect didn’t displease her. Then he strode off down the passageway.
“I hope their return to Earth implies nothing too serious,” the Captain said as they came to a lev-car door with a sign reading “No Admittance – Crew Only”. This, Zenn knew, concealed the special car that would transport them astern to the distant Indra chambers. The Captain identified himself to the door, which opened to admit them.
Zenn wondered briefly about the ambassador being recalled to Earth. It would be a long sub-light flight for them. It seemed to Zenn that there must be more involved than “a little diplomatic hair-splitting” to demand such a trip, but, as the car gently accelerated, her full attention turned to what lay ahead, and the prospect of entering the sanctum sanctorum where the sleeping stonehorse waited.
The entrance to the Indra chamber was guarded by a ponderous slab of gleaming metalloy bristling with locking bolts and conveying all the solid heft of a bank vault door. The Captain leaned his head into the recess containing the door’s bio-key. A bright white line of light played over his features as the door scanned his head and eyes and, with a brief sound of sucking air, took a sample of the minute molecules of aerosolized saliva in his breath. An instant later, the bio-key’s analysis of the DNA in the saliva was complete, and a small red diode on the door blinked from red to green. The bio-key’s voice reported the Captain was who he claimed, and the door’s huge locking bolts clanged and squealed as they were pulled aside. With a misty exhalation, the door swung open. They stepped into a small airlock. The door banged shut behind them, and before them, another, smaller door swung open.
As with Zenn’s first visit to a starliner pilot room, the air inside was bitter cold, the interior illuminated only by the weak light of the read-out panels and glowing monitor screens lining the walls. In the oversized pilot chair in the center of the room sat a shape with its back to them. The shape was encased in a helmet and bulky full-body interface suit made of some glossy dark green plastisyn material. Zenn let the ends of the scarf drop away from her face but kept it covering her head for the scant warmth it offered.
A sweet, smoky scent filled the room. As her eyes adjusted to the low light, she could just make out the source of the odor: a small altar made of reddish stone slabs, set up within a shallow alcove in the wall. The blackened remains of smoldering branches lay on top of the stone platform, prompting Zenn to wonder where the Groom’s sacrist was and to consider that the most complex spacefaring machines ever constructed could be piloted by a cult of pagan nature-worshippers. This never ceased to amaze Zenn. But the fact was, it worked, and she had to give them credit for that extraordinary feat. A lot of credit.
Zenn went to the viewing window of foot-thick ballistiplast that overlooked the vast, hangar-like Indra chamber. It was empty, but she could see, almost hidden in shadow, the huge black oval that marked the entrance to the warren – the contorted artificial labyrinth of metal and dynacarbon that concealed the Indra deep within.
Turning toward the Groom, Zenn thought the Indra pilot didn’t so much sit in the chair as grow out of it. A tangled assortment of wires, tubes and strands of a translucent spiderweb-like material connected the Groom’s interface-suit to the chair’s numerous ports and inputs. It was here the pilot participated in the almost mystical phenomenon of Indra-powered interstellar flight. Through the complex ritual of the threshold procedure, the Groom would convey the coordinates of the desired destination through the suit to the Indra. Through a process that was still only partially understood, the Indra would “read” this data and move up out of her warren – “hers” because all drive-Indra were female, as were all pilots. She would then occupy the main chamber and commence the improbable mystery of interdimensional tunneling.
“Groom Treth,” the Captain addressed the unmoving figure in the chair, the tone of his voice assuming a slight but noticeable formality, “I have taken the liberty of bringing two of our guests into the chamber rooms. Novice Bodine here, you will be interested to learn, is an exo–”
With a single, sudden movement, the Groom came up out of the chair. Sparks burst into the darkened room like miniature fireworks as wires and tubing popped out of the sockets sprouting from the suit’s torso and helmet. The wires whipped briefly in the air like angry serpents, then retracted into the chair with a series of metallic slithering sounds and sharp yelps of electronic alarms.
“Captain Oolo, this is not acceptable,” the Groom snapped, pulling the helmet off and releasing an obscuring cloud of h
eated air that billowed out from inside the suit. When the fog cleared, Zenn saw the pilot’s striking face bore the intricate living tattoos and multiple piercings of the Procyoni. The woman was almost as tall as Jules on his mech-legs. She had brown, almond-shaped eyes, sculpted cheekbones and a waist-length rope of black hair that now uncoiled to fall down her back. Brushing past Zenn and Jules as if they didn’t exist, she leaned into the Captain’s face. The scattering of metal studs, rings and tiny chains ornamenting her face and ears glinted against her mocha-tinted skin. The Captain blinked at her, brilliant chest feathers fluffing out defensively.
“Union regulations are clear – for those who can read them.” The Groom’s voice was low but tense, and she bit her words off sharply, her clipped Procyoni dialect making her sound even more severe. “Advance permissions are required to enter the chamber.”
“My apologies, of course, Groom Treth,” the Captain said, his eyes going quite round. “But, as I was about to explain, Novice Bodine is an exovet, Ciscan-trained. I thought you would appreciate meeting her.”
After a dismissive glance at Zenn, the Groom turned back to the Captain.
“No. It is not the point. I am in pre-tunnel. My sacrist and I should be engaged in preparatory meditation. Our minds should be stilled to feel the Indra and her state. Instead, I am unsettled and my sacrist absent. Where is he? He is with the meddling Skirni you sent to me, escorting him back to the passenger decks where he belongs.”
“The Skirni I sent you?” the Captain said, head bobbing up and down once in surprise.
“Yes. That Skirni. And now there are more interruptions with these two… guests! It is not to be endured.”
“What Skirni do you mean?”
“Pokt Mahg-something,” Treth said. Zenn looked at Jules, who returned her glance but said nothing. “He was here. Just now. He came with only your note for admission to my chamber. Not advance permission as required.” The Groom snatched up a small v-film lying on top of a monitor console and thrust it toward the Captain. He took it, and his eyes widened even further as he read it.
“This is most unusual – most unusual,” the Captain said, blinking at the film. “I never received a request from this Guest Pokt to visit your chamber.”
“Then why is the permission signed by you?” The Groom tapped the film with one gloved finger, then crossed her arms and stood steaming before them.
“I did not sign this,” the Captain told her, chest feathers rising and falling in time with his words. “There must be some misunderstanding. Did he… give any reason for his visit?”
“All he wanted was to see the chamber and waste my time with questions that any child could answer. I told him to leave.”
The Captain turned to Zenn and Jules. “You must forgive us. There has obviously been some sort of miscommunication here.” The Captain lifted his sleeve screen and punched up the comm function. “I’ll get this sorted out.” There was a brief pause as he waited for the person on the other end to answer.
“Yes,” he said into his sleeve. “This is the Captain. Put the Officer of the Deck on.” There was the faint, unintelligible chattering of a voice coming softly from the earbud on the side of the Captain’s head. “Flynn? Oolo here,” the Captain continued. “I have a situation in the chamber. What? No. What do you mean?” The Captain swiveled his neck around in Zenn’s direction. “She is here with me now, in the chamber.” A jolt of apprehension ran through her. There was another pause as the Captain listened to the far-off voice. “Are you certain? I see. No. I’ll take care of it. But there’s something else. Hold on.”
The Captain lowered his head to Zenn’s level. “We’ve just had a message from Mars. From the Ciscan cloister. Someone claiming to be your uncle.” He waited a moment, watching for Zenn’s reaction. “It seems you’ve deceived me, Novice Bodine… or should I say, Novice Scarlett?”
THIRTEEN
No!
Zenn’s heart thumped in her chest. She’d contacted Otha too soon.
“Captain, I can explain,” she said, her head feeling light, her mind helplessly casting about for what to say next. Then the sound of the pilot room’s inner airlock door swinging open drew everyone’s attention. She turned in time to see the back of the person who’d just entered as they turned to shut the door. It was a male with dark hair. The hair had beads and feathers in it and fell down across the shoulder on one side. It was cut short on the other side, in the Procyoni style. He wore a yellow-gold tunic with knee-length leather boots – the uniform of a groom’s sacrist. The boy toggled the door switch and faced them. It was Fane Reth Fanesson!
“The Skirni is returned to the passenger decks,” Fane said to the Groom. “He is a most disagreeable creature. And he smelled worse than a–” He stopped when he recognized Zenn. A faint smile crept across his face. “…worse than a yote.”
Zenn was certain she had gone quite red. But still, inexplicably, she was pleased to see the boy, despite his reference to that first meeting at the cloister, when a full-grown yote had covered her in a spectacular shower of well-seasoned vomit.
“So, Novice Scarlett,” the Captain snapped at her. “We will deal with your situation in time.” His big eyes glared at her, then turned to the Groom. “But first I will speak to the Skirni who entered your chambers and clear up–”
“Quiet, all of you,” Treth said, raising one hand to silence them. “Listen.”
They all held still, but Zenn heard nothing beyond the usual sounds of the ship.
“Treth?” the Captain asked, bobbing his head at her. “What is it?”
“Look, there,” Treth said, pointing at the floor beneath the viewing window. Almost invisible in a shadowed corner, a fist-sized hole could be seen in the heavy metal sheeting of the wall that separated the pilot room from the Indra chamber. A line of dark, viscous fluid flowed from the hole, and its circumference was blackened and distorted, as if melted. The opening hissed with the faint sound of air being pulled into a vacuum.
“By the sainted Shepherds,” Treth swore as she knelt on one knee and peered into the opening. “It goes through… into the chamber! Fane…”
But the boy was already in motion. He went to a compartment on the bulkhead and withdrew what looked like the old-fashioned fire extinguishers they used at the cloister. Returning to the hole in the wall, he pointed the device’s nozzle at it and squeezed the release handle. The mist of particles that sprayed from it flowed into the hole, where it quickly thickened and expanded to plug it.
“Treth, what could have caused that?” The Captain’s warbling voice had lifted to a high chirp.
“Oh!” Jules exclaimed. He was at the viewing window, pointing into the chamber. “There’s something in there. Is it the Indra?”
Zenn looked into the chamber but saw nothing. “No, it can’t be the Indra,” she told Jules. “The Indra is huge. And it wouldn’t come into the chamber yet.” Then she saw what Jules had seen. A scurrying movement, something darting out of the shadows. “Jules is right. There’s something there.”
“That is not possible,” the Groom said, pushing past Zenn to look.
The thing was two or three feet long and moving at high speed, scuttling across the chamber floor on multiple legs toward the opening that led into the Indra’s warren. It had a segmented body like a centipede, but with a large, spherical head section. It moved so quickly it was hard to make out any further detail. The others had scarcely caught sight of it when it disappeared into the opening of the warren.
“Captain, this breach,” Treth said, pointing at the hole in the wall, “it is the Skirni’s doing. It must be. He must have loosed that thing into my Indra’s chamber.”
“I’ll get an engineering team down here. We’ll get this contained, and quickly,” the Captain said. He turned to Zenn and Jules. “I’m sorry, but I’m sure you’ll understand that we’ll need to cut your visit short. I’ll escort you back to the passenger decks.”
He told the inner door leading back to
the lev-car to open, but its only response was a short, sharp buzzing noise. He quickly punched in a manual code at the wall panel. The door still remained shut.
“This is… unprecedented,” he muttered, again entering the manual code. “It cannot be possible.”
“The thing that entered the chamber,” Treth said. “It may have compromised the circuitry.”
“I’ll alert the bridge.”
He was about to activate his wrist screen again when Zenn let out an involuntary gasp, as if she’d been punched hard in the stomach.
“What is it?” Jules said, striding over to her. “Are you unhealthy?”
“I’m… not sure. It feels like…”
The familiar surge of dizziness and warmth now swept over her, coming on faster and stronger than ever before. She put one hand against the bulkhead to steady herself. In the past, she’d always been close to a creature when the feeling struck. Now, even though it wasn’t in sight, she knew instantly she was “linking” to an animal she couldn’t see – the Indra. But the stonehorse was too far off, she told herself as her vision began to shimmer and spark. She then had the unearthly sensation that she was rising up out of herself. Yes, even though the animal was hundreds of feet away, deep in its metal burrow, there was no mistaking what she felt.
At once, her field of view ignited into a shattering of light, then a shifting aura spangled with dancing, geometric shapes. The light scintillated with a ghostly display of multicolored arcing flashes that expanded and contracted. Then came a rush of unnamable emotion, not her own, but also clearly recognized by Zenn as an “otherness” she’d sensed once before, in exactly the same way, long ago, when she was nine – on the day her mother perished.
Yes. She’d felt it even then, though she’d not known it – the mind of an Indra. But Zenn had no time to dwell on this thought – the Indra’s sense of urgency was too powerful to ignore, too filled with fear and uncertainty to allow any of Zenn’s own thinking to intrude. Then, this river of emotion was overwhelmed by an even more insistent sensation: a ferocious, needle-sharp burning that seemed to radiate from the center of her brain. No, not hers: from the Indra’s brain. The pain intensified, almost too much to bear – and then the sensation ebbed and vanished, and she was alone again inside her own head, realized she was again seeing the control room and those in it, breathing the chilly air, weaving on her feet.
Under Nameless Stars Page 12