Part of Hayden's mind said, Now's the perfect time, kill him! He did his best to ignore the small voice. “What can I do for you, Admiral?” he said.
“I hear that you have gotten to know our armorer very well,” said Fanning, his face deadpan.
How did he know? Was news of Hayden's tryst with Aubri all over the ship already? “Well enough,” said Hayden cautiously. What did this mean?
“Maybe. Maybe well enough, for the task I've got in mind.” Fanning waved him inside. “Shut the door, if you will.” Hayden could still faintly hear the sounds of revelry through the walls after he did so; he glided over to a strap near the admiral's and stuck his foot through it. The two men faced one another over the glowing map table.
“I'm about to let my wife out of my sight for an extended period of time,” said Fanning with a cryptic smile. “Months, probably. Do you know the details of our plan? Why we're here?”
“No more than anybody else, sir.”
“Hmm.” Fanning stared off into the darkness for a moment. “What this is all about, Mr. Griffin, is about defeating a numerically superior foe. When Venera first came to me and told me how she'd put together a collection of old clues and documents, and now believed that radar might be possible in Virga, I wasn't much interested. It's a technology that would have only marginal utility in a fair fight—in daylight, in clear air, I mean. But the evidence that Falcon Formation was about to invade changed everything. With no guidance from the Pilot, we were about to commit a strategic blunder and lose our nation.”
“I can't much care about that, sir. I was born in Aerie.” It was a halfhearted challenge, but he felt he had to make it.
To his surprise the admiral merely nodded at the revelation. “That explains some things about you, though by no means all. You're a good airman, Hayden, but I've been wondering if I could trust you. We fought side by side on the way out of Gehellen, but you know that proves little.”
It was Hayden's turn to look away. “I considered you my enemy for many years,” he said.
Fanning smiled. “Well, I probably still am your enemy, politically. But I don't feel like you're a personal enemy of mine, Griffin. And that makes a world of difference in the current situation. Tell me: what do you suppose will happen to Aerie if Falcon Formation conquers Slipstream?”
“It'll be as if we never existed,” he replied. Fanning caught his eye and Hayden shrugged. “I know that you're the only hope for my people right now.”
“And what do you think of my wife?”
Surprised, Hayden said, “Well, I like her well enough, if that's what you mean.”
Fanning sighed. “In order to carry out our plan, I have to leave her here while we make a run for the Gehellen border,” he said. “She needs to sneak by the locals, get into the sun of suns and turn a switch that will make it possible for us to use those radar units that Aubri Mahallan has constructed. Actually, Venera's not the one who has to throw the switch; she doesn't have the technical expertise. Aubri Mahallan does.”
Into the sun of suns? And Aubri too? Hayden's face must have betrayed his surprise, because Fanning smiled.
“You understand. I'm not at all comfortable leaving my wife here, Griffin, but it was always her plan and one of us has to supervise Mahallan. Am I right in assuming that you'd feel just as uncomfortable leaving Aubri behind?”
Hayden chewed his lip. He'd been caught totally off guard by the notion that the expedition would be headed for Candesce. Old emotions and new questions were starting to boil up in him. Focusing on the matter at hand, he said, “I'm not sure that Aubri's my woman. Or anybody's.”
“But is that how you feel?"
“Look, what are you getting at?”
“I want you to fly them into Candesce, and then find a way back to Slipstream when you're done,” said Fanning earnestly. “I don't have anybody else I can trust to do the job. In fact, logic tells me you're the very last person on this expedition that I should trust. But I think I'm right about you, so I'm asking you straight up: can I trust you to do it?”
“You're not going to damage Candesce, are you? That would be...”
“Insane. Suicidal. Genocidal.” Fanning shook his head. “I don't think we could damage Candesce, even if we wanted to. No, our change will be small, temporary, and unnoticed by anyone in Virga. If you agree to go, you have a chance to guarantee that yourself.”
Hayden couldn't believe what he was hearing. Fanning trusted him! Surely he didn't deserve that trust, not with all that he'd planned and tried to do. There was no way he should accept an offer such as this; he was bound to betray it, by honor and the momentum of his long-held purpose.
Yet, Aubri would be going. She might need his protection. It was with a sinking feeling of guilt that he said, “Yes, I'll do it.
“I'll take them in,” he said, unsure of whether he believed himself, “and I won't interfere with your plans. As long as Candesce remains safe.”
And then, to shame Hayden even further, Fanning smiled at him. “I know I can count on you to bring them home safely,” he said.
Hayden smiled, and nodded, but did not believe it of himself.
* * * *
The air in the ship was stagnant and heavy by the time the Rook made its rendezvous with the other vessels. All six met under the empty gaze of Carlinth's windows. Huge nets full of treasure were towed to the partially repaired Tormentor and its sisters while in the Rook's chart room Admiral Fanning read reports of the skirmish with the Gehellens. The dangerous diversionary tactic had worked well and nobody had been killed, although two more ships had suffered hull breaches and their crews were only now able to take off the oxygen masks they had worn while they repaired them. They didn't care; there was jubilation over the treasure and cheers echoed through the sunless streets of Carlinth for the first time in centuries.
While Admiral Fanning shouted an inspirational speech through a bullhorn mounted into the hull of the Rook, Hayden camped out in the hangar. With the help of Martor, he was modifying one of the military bikes. Fanning's words came muffled through the walls; nearly everyone else on all the ships had their ears to their hulls and was listening intently.
“...Falcon Formation will destroy ... “Fanning was saying as Hayden held up an afterburner housing for Martor to see. “Designed for speed but built for reliability,” said Hayden. “Typical military. These are tough bikes, but that extra armor and framing's gotta go.”
“...Only the most extraordinary measures can save...”
Martor was wiring two extra saddles onto the bike. “But the armor's insulation, too, ain't it?” He tapped the outer shell of the cylinder. “I damn near burnt my foot off on your racer, and there was insulation on that.”
“...Up to us to do the job...”
Hayden shrugged. “Saddle, footstraps and handlebars will be it. Touch the bike at any other point and it'll burn you. But it's the price we pay for decent speed with this baby.”
“...Not only rich, but heroes...”
Hayden reached out to flip a gold chain that looped around Martor's neck. “What are you going to do now that you're rich?” In the absence of gravity, the trinkets hung off the boy every which way, making an absurd tangled cloud in front of his face that he wiped to the side every few moments.
“I dunno,” he said. “I always been navy.... Buy a ship, I guess. Explore.”
Hayden grinned. “Hunt pirates?” But Martor shook his head.
“I didn't like the fighting, come right down to it,” he said seriously. “Some things are great to talk about, but awful to see or do.” He looked away shyly, “But, you know ... talking about it was great fun. The lads loved my stories and they were easy to think up. I was thinking, maybe when we get back, I might try learning to read and write.”
“You, a story teller?” Hayden nearly laughed, but he could see that the boy meant it. “That's a great idea,” he said. “You'd be good at it. Uh, hand me that wrench, will you?”
“Hi.” Hayd
en looked up as Aubri entered the hangar. She wore practical leather flying gear including an airman's cap with goggles. She swam over to the bike and stopped herself with one hand on it and one on Martor's shoulder. “How are you?” she asked the boy. Martor stammered something incoherent.
“You need to stay out of trouble while we're gone,” she told him. “No fighting and no profiteering, you hear? We're going to check up on you when we get back.”
“Yeah, well.” Martor shrugged. “First we all gotta survive the week.”
“Ten days,” she corrected. “That's how long it'll take for you to get to Falcon Formation, assuming you escape the Gehellen dragnet. And assuming you don't run into anything, and assuming that the navigation team can find your sun and you don't end up wandering around and around in Winter til the end of time.” She grinned at Martor's expression. “Don't worry. We've got it timed down to the minute.”
“That's what worries me,” muttered Hayden. This was the weakest part of the plan: Fanning would have to get back to Falcon Formation in time to attack the secret shipyard at an exactly predetermined moment. With all the vagaries of travel in Virga—navigation errors, collisions, breakdowns, fuel shortages, and piracy—it would be a miracle if they could do that in time. By contrast, Hayden's own part in the plan was simple.
Just fly straight into the sun of suns.
“And what are you gonna do after?” Martor asked suddenly. Hayden looked over; he'd been focused on his work and didn't know who the boy had asked. He opened his mouth and saw Aubri doing the same. They looked at each other. Both hesitated.
Martor saw this exchange. “Oh,” he said, drawing the sound out with obvious relish. “That's something you haven't talked about, is it?” He squinted at Aubri. “Are you going back to your weird world? Or are you gonna settle down here?”
“I don't know,” she said. Unsatisfied, Martor turned to Hayden.
“Are you gonna stay with the Rook? The boys'd love to have you. Or are you gonna settle down in Rush? Get married, have lots of kids.”
Hayden shrugged. “Haven't thought that far ahead.” He avoided Aubri's gaze, though she also seemed to be looking elsewhere.
Hayden had thought that far ahead—and further. He hadn't discussed his thoughts with Aubri; he wasn't sure she would understand or agree.
He buried his head inside the bike, and didn't come out until the other two had changed the subject.
* * * *
The night watch was well under way when Hayden came back to the hangar. The Rook and its sisters were creeping towards the outskirts of Leaf's Choir, much more cautiously than when they'd entered. The hatch gang had left the hangar, but the place resounded to the snores of the various Unseen Hand crew members who'd been billeted here. Hayden wove in and out of the men who hung like pupae from the walls, floor, and ceiling, until he came to his bike. Then he eased the folded cargo net and heavy coil of cable off his shoulder and parked it in midair next to him. Unfolding his tool kit, he selected a wrench; he dug in his pocket for a moment and brought out some brackets and bolts. Quietly, so as not to wake the men, he proceeded to bolt the brackets onto the back of the bike, over the afterburner.
Hayden had been taken aback by Admiral Fanning's request that he shepherd Venera and Aubri to Candesce—so taken aback that for almost an hour afterward, he hadn't realized what doing that could mean. When he did, it was in the midst of a conversation with the new boatswain; Hayden had lost his train of thought in mid-sentence, and just stared slack-jawed at the dark hull until the boatswain said, “What's up? You having a stroke or something?”
He'd stammered some sort of reply and extricated himself from the conversation. Going to a porthole, he stared out at the blank nothingness of the sargasso, as an unfamiliar sense of lightness crept over him.
Words whispered in his mind; was he thinking them, or were they a memory of long ago? It might have been his father's voice saying, “Candesce is the mother of all suns. If Aerie is to have a new sun, its core will come from there."
No one had ever told Hayden how Candesce gave up its treasures; but he had heard that collecting them was easy. “Like picking fruit,” one of the Resistance engineers had said.
Now as he worked as quietly as he could, he reflected upon the irony that Fanning himself would probably approve of what he was doing. If he got caught, he could in fact appeal to the admiral. Carrier was the one more likely to object, but Hayden wasn't afraid of Carrier. No, he was doing this in secret and on his own time not because he was afraid of being caught but because this particular task was his alone. It was personal.
He plucked out the stuffing of the bike's saddle and replaced it with the coiled cargo net. Little tufts of stuffing started floating away and he jammed them in his pockets. Then he reached around the bike's exhaust vent and began coiling the thin cable inside the bike's housing. He wired it in tightly and leaned back with a satisfied smile to admire his work.
Miles and his cronies in the resistance had been right about one thing: it wasn't what you fought that mattered; the only thing that mattered was what you built. Hayden's own parents had known that, but he'd forgotten it for years after their deaths. Wasted years?—No, they had brought him here, now, to finish something that should have been done a long time ago.
He put away his tools, patted the bike, and headed for the ship's centrifuge to sleep under gravity for the last time in a long while.
16
Candesce blazed beneath Hayden's feet. Even here, hundreds of miles away, the heat from the sun of suns was almost intolerable. If he shielded his eyes and looked near the light, Hayden could just make out the bright tails of infalling lakes that were boiling away as they approached that point of incandescence. “They look like comets,” Aubri had said when she first saw them.
Other things moved near Candesce. Ships from all the principalities hovered just outside its zone of heat, moving in after sunoff. Among the principalities of Candesce, it was common custom to consign the coffins of the dead to the sun of suns; Hayden imagined that they too must become comets at the last, never reaching their goal but evaporating back into the stuff of Virga to become places and people again. So must his mother have gone when Aerie's new sun exploded. His father would have become compost for some Slipstream farm.
Some of the ships hiding in Candesce's light would be funeral vessels. But some had another purpose.
“What are you doing?” Aubri looped an arm around his waist. “You'll burn your eyes out doing that. Come inside.”
Hayden had been thinking about the ships that ventured close to Candesce during darkness. They were the harvesters—boats that scrounged the garbage cast out of the sun of suns. That garbage was Virga's chief source of sun components. His parents had used fusion-core pieces bought from the principalities to build Aerie's secret sun.
For now, Hayden would not let his speculations run away with him. He let Aubri draw him inside the charcoal harvester's hut they had found on the outskirts of Leaf's Choir. It perched like an angular bug on the black branch of a tree whose roots lay miles away in darkness. Venera Fanning and Carrier had taken up residence in another harvester's hut some distance away; the bike was hidden there in a ball of sticks. Carrier would not trust Hayden to be its keeper.
He didn't care. It had been strange and wonderful this morning to wake to the first glow of Candesce coming through the one shuttered window of the hut, and find himself wrapped in Aubri's arms and in silence. He had slept with women before; he had never awoken the next morning to find one still with him. So he dwelt in this moment for a long time, breathing slowly and contentedly with her beside him.
The now-familiar hum of the Rook's engines was gone, and not even birdsong signaled dawn here. When Hayden pulled himself over to the window (sleeping Aubri coming along like she was tied to him) he looked out on an astonishing vista. It was as if he were a mite clinging to a giant's hair; for miles in every direction thin black trunks reached towards Candesce from a place o
f shadow and blackness. The giant's hairs twisted and intertwined as they strained towards the light; many still had branches though the harvesters were systematically stripping them. None had leaves, but life was not completely absent here. Wildflowers nestled in the crooked elbows of branches, and bright green bushes dotted many trunks. Aubri had discovered wild raspberries on this very tree, which might explain why the hut had been positioned here. It was too hot for fish, but a few birds cruised in the distance.
After an hour or two Hayden had started to wonder if there might be a beehive or wasps’ nest hidden somewhere nearby, because he'd realized that it wasn't completely silent here. A deep basso thrum filled the air, faint but unwavering. He hadn't heard it last night.
When he mentioned it to Aubri she just shrugged and said, “It's Candesce. Up close it must be like a god singing.”
He was in awe of Aubri's knowledge and said so. “You truly know how to control Candesce? You could make it your toy, like a bike?”
She shook her head. “Ride it like a rocket, more like. But Hayden, Candesce was designed before Virga existed. Those designs are still available to anyone willing to leave Virga to find them. I had them with me when I first came here.”
That conversation had happened a few hours ago, and had trailed off into kissing and more personal intimations. But her words had stuck with Hayden, growing stranger and stranger the more he thought about them. Now, as they settled in the cooler shadow of the hut, he said, “Why would you have the plans for Candesce with you? Did you already know you were going to visit it?”
She frowned, just slightly, and looked around at the wicker walls. But when she met his gaze again she wore a carefree smile.
“I came here with every piece of information we'd ever collected on Virga,” she said. She held up two fingers and pinched them close together. “All that data could be contained in something much smaller than a grain of sand, so why not carry all of it? Of course, when I got here, the memory store was disabled by Candesce's emissions. So I'll have to go on what little I remember when we get there. But I remember enough.”
Analog SFF, March 2006 Page 18