Medusa in the Graveyard

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Medusa in the Graveyard Page 10

by Emily Devenport


  I said.

  said Medusa.

  She showed me the tactical image of the object toward which Timmy was speeding. I recognized one thing about it: certain structures that were placed in opposite pairs around it. Blue light blossomed within the normal spectrum when a door opened to admit Timmy, then winked out again, leaving us with a collection of lines and readouts displaying something that should have been impossible.

  said Medusa.

  It looked as if the ship had punched a hole in space, plunged into it, then pulled the hole shut behind it.

  * * *

  was Medusa’s assessment.

  I felt flummoxed, but practical questions still occurred to me.

 

  Rocket, Teddy, and Dragonette had remained with the Merliners for the duration of the lockdown. I brought them into our conversation, since they had spent the most time with our visitors. I asked them.

  Dragonette answered.

  My thoughts were running in the same direction, but I liked to cover the bases. I suggested to Medusa,

 

  As we made our way back to Lock 212, through movers and long tunnels, I realized something.

 

  I had to think about it.

  said Medusa.

 

  She paused and touched the spot where her tentacle had been reattached with glue for biometal. It was still healing, so the reattached limb wasn’t obeying nerve commands from Medusa’s brain yet. It moved independently, which was probably annoying, but that ability to move was what saved the limb from being sucked out the door with the atmosphere when the air lock opened. We found it wrapped around the claw foot of a mining probe.

  I said.

 

 

 

  We moved on. For the rest of our journey to Lock 212, we answered queries and call-ins from technicians, Medusas and their partners, and Minis, all double-checking our systems and facilities. Everything seemed to be in proper working order. Before Timmy invaded our microcosm, that would have been a comfort.

  The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if Olympia had been designed to keep people out. It served the Weapons Clan better if they could keep us in. If that were the case, our security had always been an illusion.

  When we opened the inner door for Lock 212, and I saw Merlin sitting in her spot, I stared at the structures that could move her through space so much quicker than Olympia’s engines could—the same structures we had seen on Timmy’s ship.

  The door to Merlin’s lock opened. Teddy emerged onto the threshold and waved at us. We went inside with him.

  * * *

  “Captain Nemo?” said Thomas. “Like in the story?”

  She and Representative Lee crowded into her office with us and closed the door. I assumed she was referring to the movie 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, or even its sequel, Mysterious Island.

  “Sort of,” I said. “Have you heard of someone who calls herself Baba Yaga?”

  That provoked a visible response. “Whoa,” said Captain Thomas. “Did you get a message from her?”

  “She says Bomarigala had Captain Nemo killed.”

  Thomas raised her eyebrows. It seemed a sincere reaction. If her autonomic responses were any indication, the open emotions I had seen her display had been what they appeared to be, and this troubled me.

  The Merliners looked like us. Their emotions were recognizable to any Olympian. I couldn’t help but judge them by our standards. Now I realized that had been a mistake.

  Olympians think first of protocol, of the expectations of the people with whom we’re interacting. That adds a barrier within our psyches that other people may lack.

  Take Lee, for instance. His neutral demeanor was admirable, but even that calm fellow had shown some emotion when I mentioned Baba Yaga’s name. His heart rate and respiration accelerated, though not enough to indicate alarm or deception. His pupils dilated and his tone revealed heightened interest when he said, “The Baba Yaga I’ve heard of has been around for a long time—centuries, if you can believe the stories. She was associated with the Mironenko Clan.”

  Captain Thomas frowned, as if something disturbing had occurred to her. “Did you say Timmy was wearing an invisible suit?”

  I had the recording sent to the screen in her office and showed it to them. The footage had been enhanced to show Timmy’s progress through the tunnels, but the cameras had caught a clear picture of her in the air lock. I watched Thomas while she watched Timmy.

  “That’s a danger suit,” said Thomas. “That’s a very rare thing. The old, powerful families in the Empire used them for self-protection. Enhanced Special Agents still use them, though this isn’t one of those—this one looks…” Her face settled into grim lines. “Judging by the extreme paleness of her skin and the shape of her body inside the suit—Timmy looks like a Hybrid.”

  They way she said that word made it sound like a specific thing, rather than a general thing. If she had thought it was a general description, she could have been talking about us. That would have provoked my paranoia, as recently as a cycle ago. Now I thought it more prudent to reserve judgment. “What sort of Hybrid do you mean?”

  “Well—” Thomas tapped the screen that had displayed the footage of Timmy making fools out of Medusa and me, and got it to replay. She froze it a couple of times, then nodded. “Baba Yaga’s got history with the Mironenko family. They were World Engineers, but after the War of the Clans, they became genetic engineers, too. Timmy looks like one of the Hybrids they created.”

  If that were the case, then we were not the first people to be engineered by a Mironenko. I wondered if Thomas could guess why the answer was important to me when I asked, “Why did they create Hybrids?”

  “For special jobs,” said Thomas. “They joined the ESAs—Enhanced Special Agents. Many of those Hybrids are free agents now. Most of their activities are classified. They’re rumored to have a strict code of honor.”

  I had a strict code, too, so that wasn’t a comfort.

  Representative Lee had reverted to his poker face, which I guessed meant yet another disturbing thing had occurred to him. “Why was Nemo targeted?”

  “To sabotage us?” I guessed.

  Someone knocked on the door. Thomas nodded, and Medusa tapped the OPEN controls with the tip of a tentacle. Kitten trotted in. she said.

  When the door slid shut behind Kitten, Lee continued. “Timmy could have sabotaged you more effectively by damaging systems on your ship. Instead, she went after a particular gu
y. Do you know what Nemo was doing when she killed him? Did she move the body, or was he killed where he was found?”

  Kitten said.

  Kitten was just chock-full of conceptual bombs today. I said.

 

  “I have to get answers from our Security expert,” I told Lee. “Captain Thomas, you and your crew are free to visit the social areas on Olympia, as long as you have your Mini escort. I’ll leave it up to you whether you still want to be on lockdown.”

  “We’ll discuss it,” said Thomas. “Don’t worry about us. We’ve got a verbal agreement with you, and to me that’s as binding as any printed contract.”

  Once again, her autonomic responses indicated what her demeanor had already told me. “Thank you, Captain.”

  She appreciated that courtesy, and the way Medusa smiled at her in response to the assurances she had just given us. Without Medusa, I would have botched that social cue.

  I said.

  said Kitten.

  “Captain,” said Medusa, “we’ll update you when we can.” Her tone was genuine, rather than the phony warmth I had attempted just before a certain regrettable incident. Thomas obviously appreciated that difference.

  Old habits die hard, however, and as we were leaving, I said,

  Medusa reminded me.

 

  That was pretty much what Dragonette had said. Yet as we left, Dragonette was happily perched on Narm’s finger, listening to him talk about the worlds he had visited. Didn’t a Mini’s instincts count, too? After all, it was a Mini who alerted us to the danger in the first place.

  We exited Merlin and walked across Lock 212. When we had closed the pressure door behind us, I said,

  said Medusa.

  I stopped dead.

 

  My head spun.

  said Medusa.

  I said.

  It was the truth. It shocked her. For the first time since I had known her, Medusa didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t understand her attitude.

  Finally I said,

  said Medusa.

 

  Medusa flowed off me and left me standing in the middle of that tunnel without a glance back.

  This time, I got the message.

  * * *

  Second waited for me in the captain’s annex. It extended far enough above the surface of Olympia for me to see the Fore Sector pinching into the vanishing point out one bank of view windows and the Aft Sector out the other. The ship appeared to be overhead and the stars wheeled at my feet. I think Nemo, and all the captains before him, must have found it inspiring.

  Second wasn’t sitting where she would be inspired. She leaned against the lone desk in the room, upon which sat a screen and a writing pad that Nemo might have used when he was in there. She watched me enter without comment. I walked past her and looked out toward the Fore Sector.

  It really was a great view.

  Finally I turned to face Second.

  she said.

 

  A muscle in her jaw jumped.

  I waited for her to elaborate. She seemed to think I already knew what she meant. I asked at last.

 

  Honestly, the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. Though it did explain her unhappy mood.

 

 

  She frowned.

 

  she said. I don’t think she was trying to be insulting—it was an accurate statement.

  I said.

  She gave me a hard stare, but then she nodded.

 

 

 

 

 

  She hesitated, but then she sighed.

 

  Second had an intelligent face, but it wasn’t the kind of demeanor you’d want to bring to a poker game. she said.

  I didn’t have Medusa to monitor her vitals, but I felt she was telling the truth.

 

  I said. I hesitated before I left her.

  said First (or Captain). I could see that the fact that she was going to get to keep her job was catching up with her. I could also see that she valued it more than her life.

  I left her to work that out in private. After exiting the Command Center, I made my way back through the tunnels of Olympia.

  I began, intending to let her know that I wanted to finalize my plans to visit the Belters, but I got no further.

  “Oichi,” said a familiar voice.

  I turned and found Crow looming over me.

  11

  Aloha

  Crow gave me a luminous grin. “Now is the hour. The entities are in agreement. I will tell you the guest list.”

  I was so surprised to see him, I couldn’t decide how to react. If I reached out to touch him, would my hand pass right throu
gh him? Or would I burst into flames from that contact?

  “We are inviting you, Oichi,” he continued. “Also young Ashur, as I warned you we probably would. Kitten and Dragonette are also acceptable. I leave the final choices up to you.”

  I had expected to hear from him after we visited the Belters, and to have more time to make those choices. “If I leave Ashur out, do you think that would be a mistake?”

  “I do,” said Crow. “Remember, I am not an individual, though I appear to be. I am a collective. We like him. That can only help you.”

  Right. Tell that to his father.

  “You will go to the Belters first,” said Crow.

  I blinked. “Not straight to Graveyard?”

  “The Alliance of Ancient Races have allowed Olympia to approach Graveyard unchallenged, but all other ships must first stop at Maui for security inspection. Since Olympia is moving so slowly, we suggest you travel on the ship that recently docked in Lock 212.”

  “You know about Merlin?”

  His grin widened until it practically split his face. “Remember that all current surveillance technology in-system comes from the graveyard.”

  Point taken.

  “Once you have passed the inspection,” he continued, “come to Graveyard. You will be traveling into the canyon with our best guide. Her name is Ahi. She is Ashur’s age, and she is precious to us. It is a sign of our trust.”

  If Ahi were Ashur’s age, that might help me convince Nuruddin to let him go. It certainly seemed to be convincing me. It was a concession I couldn’t ignore.

  Crow watched me grapple with my decision, but he didn’t wait to hear what it was. “Bring nothing into the canyon except the supplies you need for eating and drinking, and portable emergency medical supplies. Do not bring weapons. Do not bring knives.”

  Knives? I wondered. Not even for utility?

  I decided it didn’t matter. “There are some things I have to—”

  Crow moved his head in stiff negation. “Time is running out. Others will be journeying into the canyon, too, with the permission of other entities.”

 

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