Confluence

by S. K. Dunstall

  “I got you access to the alien ships. You got caught.”

  Radko smiled grimly. They didn’t realize yet, but with Ean around, they’d never steal an alien ship.

  The pipe above her gave way without warning. She crashed through the damaged ceiling, onto the floor in front of the speakers.

  Three blasters swung toward her.

  She recognized the speaker. First Captain Jakob. The Lesser Gods’ equivalent of a commodore. The head of the Factor’s personal security and Bach’s equivalent. She’d looked him up after learning about Michelle’s proposed marriage, still doing her job, finding out about potential threats to Michelle and Ean. Old habits.

  “Blaster down, nice and quiet.”

  She put her blaster down and used the hand she was lying on to ease out the comms she’d taken from the assistant. She’d never get out of this alive, not if Bach had this to hide. The most important thing was to let Lancia know he was a traitor.

  She managed to push it behind her, and one-handedly thumbed the comms on, praying that it didn’t beep. She pressed in the emergency code she knew by heart.

  “What’s that?”

  She realized she’d been whispering to line five, much like Ean might sing. “Please, don’t make a noise.” But the lines didn’t hear her, of course.

  Bach kicked her blaster away. “My Lady Dominique.” His voice was as sour as Vega’s could be.

  “Lancastrian?” Jakob asked.

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  Jakob raised his weapon.

  Bach knocked his hand away. “Don’t kill her. She is cousin to His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Yu. And important to our plans.”

  He should have let Jakob kill her. Why keep her alive when she might escape and report what he had done?

  It was too late, anyway. The comms behind her was capturing all this. Vega would piece it together, and she and Admiral Galenos would chase this traitor down and destroy him.

  “Cousin?” Jakob asked.

  “You are a traitor to Lancia, Commodore Bach.” Radko made her voice clear enough to carry to the comms behind her.

  “Doesn’t the cousin work for Galenos?”

  “She is part of the personal security complement for Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess Michelle.”

  Radko kept her voice clear. “You have conspired with Redmond and the Worlds of the Lesser Gods,” for they had to be working together. “To attempt to steal an alien line ship. You have betrayed Lancia, and the New Alliance.”

  “Oh, for—” Jakob spun the control on his blaster. “If someone won’t do it, I will.”

  “You, and Commander Jakob, and—”

  Jakob fired.

  TWENTY-SIX

  EAN LAMBERT

  EAN HEARD THE Confluence’s “Welcome home” as Sale and her team docked.

  “This is not their home. That is the Lancastrian Princess.”

  Abram hadn’t understood his message. Helmo would kill him for stealing his crew. So would Vega. Maybe even Sale herself although Sale did give the ship a pat as she came on board. He’d seen Kari Wang do the same thing on occasion, and Captain Gruen, as well. But Sale was a group leader, four promotions away from captain yet.

  “We choose.”

  “You’ll get your people soon.”

  There was no way the New Alliance would give the ship to Sale. Everyone was worried Lancia would take the Confluence. That was another reason the ship would never be Sale’s.

  “Do you know about politics?”

  Blue misunderstanding.

  “Power factions.” Ean didn’t have the words to describe it. “Worlds.”

  “Worlds?”

  How did you describe a world to a line ship? They must know they were there because they avoided them, but Ean had never seen them depicted on the displays of the ships. “You know about suns.”

  “Suns?”

  Of course they knew about suns, and, if his surmise was correct, flicked enemy ships into them. “Those big balls of energy in space.” He used the tune for Bose engines for energy. “They have worlds surrounding them.” Line four and line two. “People live on these worlds.” Line one. “Our home ships, if you like. Where we come from.”

  More blue confusion. He might as well have been speaking gibberish. Which he probably was to the lines. It was like line seven all over again. They could be saying exactly the same thing to each other, but they didn’t have the knowledge to link it to something both of them understood.

  “Anyway, these factions will send you more people.”

  “More people is good.”

  They needed to get Sale away from the ship while those “more people” bonded. And keep her away afterward. Did a ship ever have two “Ships”? Ean didn’t think so. But they did bond with new captains if they didn’t have one—as was shown with the Eleven’s accepting Kari Wang. Best to get Sale off the ship and see what happened.

  “Ship is ours.”

  And he’d have to stop worrying about it while he was on a Confluence fleet ship. Let Abram deal with it.

  He was glad the shuttle of paramedics arrived then. Forty of them, all wearing Lancian gray. A new batch again, for Ean didn’t recognize any of these people. Didn’t whoever was in charge of assigning paramedics understand they were taking the linesmen onto the strongest ship in the two fleets? They should have sent experienced people.

  None of these paramedics had been on the Confluence before. They were a long way past the original group supplied by the Lancastrian Princess, Balian’s Captain Seafra, and Yaolin’s Admiral Orsaya.

  There were four shuttle decks on the Confluence, each of them immense, each of them easily able to hold the full group of trainees, as well as forty paramedics, Craik’s team, and Bhaksir’s team.

  The deck they used for training was set up for human linesmen, with oxygen tanks spread throughout the vast space. The other three—all of them a long trek through the ship—were closed off. They didn’t have breathable air yet. You always had to wear a suit on the Confluence, for you never knew when you might step into alien atmosphere.

  Before Michelle had bought his contract, Ean had never worn a space suit. Now, he sometimes felt as if he lived in one.

  The first trainee shuttle arrived, disgorging forty trainees onto the shuttle deck. Then the next. And the next.

  Peters was in the first batch, along with the four Xantos.

  Nadia Kentish looked around. “It’s as big as a barracks parade ground.”

  “You’d get used to it,” Lina Vang said, but she sounded doubtful.

  Scout Ship Three sounded smug. “Not like me. I’m sneaky and fast, and not too big.”

  None of the Xantos answered, but they all looked around, as if wondering who had spoken.

  Ean turned to what he had some semblance of control over. “Do you want to talk to them?” he asked Sale.

  “Of course.”

  As Radko would say, “Was the sky on Lancia purple?” Sale always addressed the trainees.

  “Who goes first? You or Rossi?”

  “Rossi. So I can do damage control if I have to.”

  Damage control. Ean shivered. Michelle had used those words earlier today, talking to Yu.

  * * *

  ROSSI had an orator’s voice, and he knew how to use it. “Linesmen.”

  He got instant silence.

  “The best way to learn the lines is to experience them firsthand. You need to be where the lines are. There are some”—and he glanced at Ean—“who believe you should practice it as some nebulous art in a far-off spaceship, but nothing matches firsthand experience. I, Jordan Rossi, level-ten linesman, know that. That is why you are here. After today, all of you should understand what is different about these lines and how you have to respond to them.”

  The linesmen broke in
to spontaneous applause.

  Fergus came up beside Ean. “I’m not sure it was wise to let him up there to put you down like that. Jordan may have dropped his plans to become Grand Master, but he’s still ambitious. And political.”

  No matter how much he denied it, Rossi would never willingly go far from the eleven lines, and as Grand Master, he’d have to travel the galaxy. In a way, Rossi had earned the occasional bagging right. He was stuck here, subordinate to Ean, and he knew he could never leave.

  “If it makes Rossi feel he is in control, I don’t care what he says, as long as he does what needs to be done.” At least Fergus was still alive and whole. “How have you been?”

  “This suit.” Fergus grimaced. “As for the rest.”

  “On this ship,” Rossi’s voice thundered, “you will experience the true strength of the lines.”

  “I’ve been doing some listening, Ean. I’m sorry to say, but I think there’s a problem with the linesmen Lancia sent in. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were deliberately stirring up trouble.”

  Lancia. Ean wasn’t surprised. “It’s probably part of Yu’s plan to destabilize Abram.” If they had to kick the Lancastrian linesmen out to save Abram, he’d do it.

  Almost as if it were a signal, Ean became aware that Emperor Yu and Admiral Carrell had stepped onto Confluence Station. Sattur Dow followed.

  “Abram? But why?”

  “It’s a long story.” Ean had forgotten Fergus didn’t know the details. But he was a good source of information, and he knew how to keep his mouth shut. “Fergus, what does Lancia do to traitors?”

  He shouldn’t have asked it, not when he’d just said what he’d said that about Abram.

  “Traitors? What have you done to upset Lancia?”

  At least he didn’t realize the question was about Abram. “Nothing.” Yet, but if Yu challenged Abram as a traitor, he’d do something about it. “The Factor implied the New Alliance wouldn’t punish the traitors, not as he believed they should be punished, so we let him take Jakob and the crew of the Iolo home.”

  Fergus looked at him. “You can’t be serious.”

  Unfortunately, he was. “I was wondering how Lancia punishes someone for treason.” He hoped his voice stayed neutral.

  Fergus considered it. Jordan Rossi had once said he had a storage-box mind. Full of facts and figures, all filed neatly away. It wasn’t a function of line seven, so it was something that Fergus, himself, was good at, outside of line ability.

  “I think Emperor Yu has them shot. They have a trial, but if the Emperor truly believes someone is a traitor, the trial is a sham.”

  That’s what Ean was afraid of.

  “Lancia has a bad reputation for its treatment of people who betray them. Don’t forget Rebekah Grimes.”

  Abram had executed Rebekah. But she had killed his people.

  “Lancia’s way is quick, but I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of Emperor Yu. You tend not to see those people again.”

  That’s what Michelle was worried about. And Ean was now, too.

  On Confluence Station, Admiral Orsaya greeted Yu and Carrell respectfully but without warmth. “Admiral, Your Imperial Majesty. You got here fast. It’s less than an hour since your clearance came through.”

  “Times like these,” Carrell said, and looked as if he thought Orsaya would agree with him, “the less advance notice the better.”

  “Where is the Lancastrian linesman?” Yu demanded. “I want to talk to him.”

  “Linesman Lambert is conducting line training today,” Orsaya said.

  “We have come from the Gruen,” Yu said. “There were no trainees.”

  Maybe it was a good thing they’d woken Sale and Orsaya earlier. Otherwise, the trainees would have still been leaving when Yu arrived.

  Ean dragged himself back to what was happening on the Confluence. “Thanks, Fergus. I’ll let Sale know about the Lancastrian linesmen.”

  Rossi had finished his oration. Ean had no idea of the rest of what he’d said, but the trainees were happily agreeable.

  Sale stepped up to address the trainees. “One day I might kill you personally,” she said to Rossi, as they passed.

  “She doesn’t mean it,” Ean sang hastily as the ship lines stirred, especially line eight. “It’s a human way of saying they’re annoyed with other people.” He waited till the lines subsided. “Don’t say things like that, Sale.”

  Rossi laughed aloud. “Lines a little out of control, Linesman?”

  Sale looked daggers at Rossi. When she turned to Ean, her gaze wasn’t much less ferocious. “Can I speak now?”

  He nodded.

  She raised her voice. “As you can see, it’s a big ship.” Unbidden—or at least unbidden by Ean—the ship amplified her words, so everyone heard clearly. “You get a guided tour as part of your training, but it is line training. That is what you’re here for. That’s what you’re expected to do.” She looked directly at Peters. “Any complaints, and you go straight back to the shuttle.”

  She looked away, over the crowd, before he could argue. “Access is restricted. Don’t wander. We know where you are at any time. If you wander, you get sent back to the shuttle. Understood?”

  She held their gaze until most of them nodded.

  “Good. We are on a line ship. An Eleven-class. You all know line eleven can be strong. You know the symptoms. You know what to do. We have paramedics here.” She indicated the paramedics around the room. “Help your teammates. If you see someone in trouble, do what you can and call the nearest paramedic.”

  Line eleven had been quiet so far. Or as quiet as it could be. Some of the trainees still had difficulty breathing. The paramedics were already among them.

  “Ean.”

  Ean stepped up. “You know the routine. We will now greet the lines on this ship.”

  He started with line one. The standard introductory training song. The crew of the Eleven called it the Hello Song, and it was as good a name as any.

  Here, on the Confluence, the lines were strong. Even Peters’s eyes widened as line one answered.

  Maybe it was as simple as that. They should have brought them onto the Confluence first, and all that antagonism would have gone.

  Line two.

  Sale came over to Ean while he waited for them to sing. “Thanks for the amplification, Ean. It was a good idea.”

  “That wasn’t my idea. It was the ship’s.” Yes, and ship was feeling pretty satisfied with the praise. “Have you ever sat in the captain’s chair, Sale?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of doing so.”

  “But you’ve spent a lot of time on the bridge.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  Ean sang line three and waited for the trainees to sing it, too, and for the reply.

  “Ean, you don’t ask questions without a purpose.”

  Ean ignored that.

  Line four. The trainees were more animated, and so was the ship. Not only that, the ships of the whole fleet were listening in. The council had better come up with that list of ships and worlds, for if the ships started choosing people, Ean didn’t know what he was going to do.

  “I think.” What did he think? “I think that you don’t always have to be a linesman for the lines to hear you.”

  “That stands to reason,” Sale said. “The Confluence knows we’re here. It opens doors for us.”

  “It does?”

  “How do you think we get around the ship?”

  He hadn’t thought about it at all. Initially, he’d asked the ship to open the doors. He’d assumed Sale’s team had added human triggers. They’d brought technicians in to add human screens. Engineer Tai had supervised that.

  “I’m sure it thinks we’re deaf, dumb, and blind, but it recognizes us, wei
rd creatures that we are.”

  Deaf, dumb, and blind, maybe, but it had recognized that Sale wanted to be heard and amplified her voice. It would do other things for her, if she asked. The way it had shown her the medical center. He’d bet they’d talked about it here on the Confluence after they’d discovered the medical center on the Eleven.

  She could ask . . . what? He looked around for inspiration, and his gaze fell on the electric cart that both Sale and the ship hated so much.

  “You should ask the Confluence to show you how to get to the bridge fast, Sale. Tell it that you need to get places quickly. Ask for another way.”

  “And how is it going to understand me, let alone tell me what I want to know?”

  “The Confluence can sense what you want. Like before, when it amplified your voice.”

  “The lines can certainly sense humans better than most humans can sense the lines,” Sale said. “That’s obvious. But we need linesmen to really talk.”

  “She wants transport,” Ean whispered to the lines. “She doesn’t want to use—” How did one describe a cart? He tried to remember back to what he had felt through the lines.

  He should suggest to Abram that Sale be included with the captains when they talked about the lines. But that would give the Confluence ideas. Did he care? He liked Sale. She would be good for the ship.

  But right now, he had training, and the lines were waiting. He turned his attention back to his job.

  Line five.

  On board Confluence Station, Orsaya was saying, “I don’t know what time the linesmen will be back.”

  Line six.

  All the way up to line ten. And finally, line eleven.

  “Gently,” Ean cautioned. “Human lines. Weak.” And line eleven was gentle but it was strong and close, and still took all the multilevel linesmen down.

  Nadia Kentish dropped to her knees beside Lina Vang, who’d gone down hard. She signaled to a paramedic. “Over here.”

  On board Confluence Station, Yu was already preparing to depart. What was the point of going all that way out to a ship and leaving almost immediately? Orsaya stopped to answer her comms. Carrell slowed to wait for her. Dow and Yu kept walking toward the shuttle.