Sisterhood of Suns: Pallas Athena

by Martin Schiller

  ***

  The Free City of Ashkele was divided into separate districts; each with its own distinctive central square dedicated to a Xee God, or Gods. According to the holocard, CJG Enterprises was located near the Square of the Twelve Golden Corpses of Prosperity, and sat roughly in the middle of the Street of the Joyous Newly Dead. Like the other buildings around it, a high wall surrounded the place, keeping out the street noise and protecting the interior from prying eyes, and intrusion.

  Approaching it, Maya immediately noticed the small black antennae at the top of the wall, spaced at regular intervals. In between them, the air shimmered slightly, suggesting that a charged field of some kind surrounded the property. Then a Ginja-bug approached the area, and when it abruptly turned around, it confirmed her suspicions.

  The native insectoids could sense energy fields, and every Ashkelean learned to watch them carefully, Maya included. If the Ginja avoided something, then it was deadly, and a lot of homes and businesses in Ashkele didn’t have a problem with employing lethal measures to ensure their security. Clearly, CJG Enterprises was no exception to the local norm.

  At least I’ll have a safe place to sleep, she thought consolingly.

  Mustering up all the pride that she had left, the girl walked up to the entrance. But the door had no buzzer, keypad or doorknob on its surface. Not knowing what else to do, Maya raised her hand to knock.

  Before she could rap on the door however, a harsh robot voice spoke from somewhere above her.

  “State your business,” it demanded. If the residence was like any other in the Free City, Maya knew that there was probably a scanner and a weapon being trained on her at the same time. An involuntary chill went up her spine, but she wasn’t about to show fear to a stupid ‘bot.

  “My name is Maya,” she said evenly, “I was told to come here by Sarah.”

  The sentrybot considered this information and then the door slid open. Maya walked inside the portal with the leaden step of the condemned, dreading her inevitable meeting with the woman. There was no other choice, though, she told herself. Not for the present at least.

  The scene that greeted her within was a spacious courtyard, filled with exotic trees and flowers from at least a dozen different worlds. While many of its elements were unfamiliar, she recognized some of them immediately; a small stand of graceful Nyxian Jhola trees, brilliantly colored Lamentine dragon-flowers, delicate Spella bushes from Corrissa, and Nemesian S’sihl’ka grass that was so fine and soft that it took a conscious effort for her not to remove her shoes then and there, and walk barefoot through it. Precise patches of sand, carefully raked into elaborate swirling patterns, broke up these plantings at strategic locations, and deliberately focused her attention towards the most pleasing elements of the place.

  And winding through it all was a walkway made from weathered Tetran star stone, its brilliant pockets of tiny gems winking out at her from an otherwise jet-black surface. The stone path traveled sinuously through the garden, past tiny fountains that filled the air with their music, and miniature pools that tantalized her eyes with brief glimpses of luminous Tethyian pinfish.

  Taken in its entirety, the courtyard exuded a sense of peace and tranquility that caught Maya completely by surprise. The place was clearly the creation of a master gardener, either from Sita or Ara, and definitely not the setting that she had expected to find at the home of a smuggler. Or a witch.

  Zara met her halfway down the walkway and her old wrinkled face lit up with a smile. “I’d hoped we’d see you again,” she said. “Hari’d thought we’d seen the last of you, but I knew better and I told her so. I imagine you’ll want to freshen up and get yourself something to eat.” The girl signaled her assent, and the older woman guided her into the house.

  The interior proved to be just as tasteful and serene as the garden had been. The furniture was old-fashioned, with muted colors, and here and there in the large open living area, Maya spied various artifacts and antiques from a multitude of strange and exotic places. They were the souvenirs of lives spent roaming the stars.

  Unable to resist her curiosity, she walked up to a niche in one of the nearer walls. The alcove held a tablet carved from some unknown ivory-colored stone covered in sharp-edged characters that vaguely reminded her of the Babylonian cuneiform she had seen as a schoolgirl.

  On an impulse, she raised her hand and reached out to touch the carved symbols. As her fingers came near, the inscriptions suddenly glowed with a soft blue-white light and the room filled with sounds that could have been musical notes.

  Maya gasped and stepped away from the artifact.

  “The Captain and Sarah are quite the pair of collectors,” Zara said. “That thing came from a Drow’Voi city on Tetra-Five. It’s one of the few things anyone has ever found that they left behind. I don’t know what it’s for, and it cost the Captain a pretty fortune, but it does make some nice little noises, don’t you think?”

  Maya nodded, realizing that there was something familiar about the tones that the tablet had produced. Then she recalled her dream about the Drow’Voi from the night before.

  They were the same kinds of sounds that had come from the machines that the creatures had used. And just like in her dream, she was certain that there was some deep meaning behind them, but it eluded her. Shaking her head in bewilderment, she let Zara lead her away from the niche and deeper into the room.

  Passing a large tiggari wood table, Maya spotted one object on it that didn’t defy any explanation whatsoever. It was a finely crafted model of a long-range interceptor ship, with Sisterhood naval markings painted on its miniaturized hull.

  She stopped and leaned down to examine the replica closely. Everything had been captured perfectly in small scale. The hull even had faint traces of pitting from micrometeorite particles. Admiring the skill of the model’s builder, Maya read the ship’s name aloud to herself, “USSNS Anne Bailey”

  “So she was called,” a voice behind her said. She turned around and saw that Captain bel Lissa was standing there. The woman had changed out of her customary flight-suit into a loose flowing gown, and like the house and gardens around her, it made her appear to be anything but the captain of a notorious smuggler ship.

  “You were in the Navy,” Maya stated.

  “That I was,” Bel Lissa replied, joining her at the table. “I did 17 years in the Star Service, some of it during the War of the Prophet. That was my ship before I left and went into business for myself. Next to the JUDI, the Mad Annie was one of the finest vessels I’ve ever had the pleasure of piloting.”

  “So, you fought the Hriss then?” Maya asked.

  “Did I,” Bel Lissa chuckled. “Zara did, too. Our little hunter-killer squadron sent quite a few of their Warriors off to the Eternal Battlefields of Paradise.”

  “Why didn’t you stay in?”

  Bel Lissa shrugged. “Because it stopped making sense, I suppose. The politics of it all got to me. We’d take a system, loose a lot of good women, and then hand it right back to the shovelheads when the politicians, or the admirals, decided it was expedient.’

  “Besides, there’s no future in such a life. With the JUDI at least, I have a lot more freedom, and I manage to do a lot more good.”

  Good? How could a smuggler do good? Maya wondered to herself. It seemed to be at total odds with the very nature of the profession itself. Moonrunners weren’t philanthropists. They were opportunists.

  Bel Lissa didn’t elaborate though. “Well,” she said instead, “I see that Zara has some food for you in the kitchen. Her chili’s all she says it is, but let me give you a friendly warning: don’t let her talk you into seasoning it up with any Ototsaa-peppers. Those things are hot enough to make a Hriss Warrior cry his eyes out.”

  Maya grinned irreverently at the comical image. “I’ll take your advice.” With Sarah not skulking around, she realized that she actually liked the crew of the JUDI, or at least its Captain, and her Second. And the chili in the other room did sm
ell delicious.

  Mercifully, Sarah did not make an appearance at any point during the evening that folowed, and Maya was thankful for this small blessing. She was not only able to enjoy two bowls of Zara’s chili in peace, but also a clean bed and a quiet, restful night.

  ***

  The smell of fresh brewed kaafra greeted Maya as she came downstairs, and she eagerly followed the scent to its source. However, as she neared the kitchen, she felt Sarah’s presence, and frowned when she entered and saw the woman.

  Like Bel Lissa, Sarah had shed her usual clothing for a loose comfortable robe. In her case, it was black with delicate silver embroidery that Maya guessed was Nyxian in origin. The woman said nothing to her, but sipped at her kaafra as Maya got a cup of the stimulant for herself.

  A long icy silence passed, and it was Sarah who finally broke it. “Did you sleep well?” she asked.

  Maya’s eyes flashed with hostility, and she merely nodded an affirmative.

  “I thought that Zara would take you shopping today,” Sarah went on, unaffected by her animosity. “You might need some things.”

  Of course, Maya did, but she was not about to admit it. It was bad enough that she had allowed herself to be in the same house with her in the first place.

  “You’ll want to eat something,” Sarah advised her. “Zara is an early riser.” Then she picked up her cup and walked out of the room.

  Although Sarah had been the one to suggest it, Maya did feel hungry and she requested a light meal from the kitchen’s robochef as soon as she was sure the woman wasn’t going to return. While she ate, Zara appeared in the living area, fully dressed, and escorting a guest.

  The newcomer was older than Maya was, possibly 25-30 years standard, and a Nemesian. Like many women from the jungle world, her skin was pale green, and she bore a clan tattoo on one side of her face. It was the stylized image of a fierce looking bird with a sharp beak and formidable talons, and it conveyed her tribal membership, and her rank within it, to anyone who knew how to decipher the details.

  The only departure from what was normal for someone from her motherworld was her hair. Instead of being the typical dark green, she had either dyed it, or had had it genetically altered to a dark blue, almost black color. In addition, she had garbed herself in a very un-Nemesian black bodysuit that was identical to the one that Maya had seen Sarah wearing. It covered most of her form, with the notable exception of her prehensile tail, which flicked alertly in the air as she entered the room.

  She was also carrying a black wooden staff in one hand and a small pleather case in another, and it was obvious from the purposeful way that she moved that she had come on business of some kind. As she passed Maya, the Nemesian gave her a glance that seemed to take in all of her at once, assessing both her strengths and her weaknesses.

  Uncertain how to respond, the girl nodded a polite greeting and the woman grinned at her, exposing her razor-sharp canines. Maya wasn’t certain if this was an expression of friendliness, or a warning of some kind. Customs differed from world to world and she instinctively refrained from smiling back.

  This proved to be the correct response; the Nemesian nodded in approval and then let Zara guide her to the glass doors that led outside to the rear garden. As they slid open, and she went through, Maya realized that Sarah had been waiting there, and had changed into her own bodysuit.

  Suddenly, Maya made the connection between the two outfits. They were more than just a fashion statement. They had some function that lent itself to whatever the pair was about to do. But what that was, was an unknown, and despite herself, Maya was fascinated and walked up to the glass to get a better view.

  The Nemesian handed Sarah the staff, and then opened the pleather case, withdrawing a dark kerchief. She used this to blindfold the woman’s eyes and then produced two curved daggers. Their blades were at least as long as her forearm and looked as if they were razor sharp.

  After exchanging shallow bows, the pair backed seperated and Sarah took the staff in both hands, assuming a slight crouch. The moment that she did this, the Nemesian responded, throwing herself into a roll. The instant that she came back up onto her feet, she slashed violently at Sarah with the knives from two directions at once.

  Somehow, despite her blindfold, Sarah managed to perceive the attack, and dropped backwards into a roll herself, gaining distance and bringing the staff up in an arc. Before the weapon could connect with her opponent’s temple though, the Nemesian dropped sideways into another roll that kept her inside the range of the weapon, and avoided the blow. This maneuver also created an opportunity for another attack and the jungle dweller took it, slashing at Sarah’s exposed calf with the nearest dagger.

  Instead of being cut by the blade, Sarah picked up her foot at the last instant and pivoted on her supporting leg, sweeping the staff down and around to catch the weapon. There was the sharp report of metal being struck as the dagger was wrenched from the Nemesian’s hand, and sent flying across the yard.

  The Nemesian countered immediately, letting the momentum of the strike drive her body sideways as she threw her remaining dagger at Sarah’s mid-section. The blade never made contact. Sarah stepped sideways and spun her staff to deflect the missile, sending it into the air to join its mate on the grass.

  And then, just as suddenly as the combat had begun, it was over. Sarah was removing her blindfold, and the Nemesian was smiling at her, a genuine smile this time, of obvious approval.

  Maya let out her breath, and loosened the death grip she had been holding her cup of kafra with. She also backed up a few steps away from the glass, hoping that the interior had concealed her from view. The very last thing she wanted was for Sarah to know that she had been standing there the entire time, gawking at them like some kind of fringe-worlder seeing her first big spaceport.

  Outside in the yard, Skylaar taur Minna collected her daggers and rejoined Sarah. “You did well today, Cho’ sena,” she said. “Although I think that you allowed yourself to stay just a little too close to me. I almost had you with that calf-slash, and I could have followed through with an attack to your supporting leg if I had wanted to. As it stands, I seem to have scored at least one good hit.”

  She was looking directly at Sarah’s forearm, and a shallow cut in the bodysuits material. The smart material was already healing itself and resuming its smooth, unmarred appearance.

  Maya had no way of knowing it, but she had been completely correct about their outfits and their functionality. The bodysuits were not just for appearances; they were resistant to edged weapons and projectiles like needlegun rounds, and automatically repaired themselves whenever they were damaged in any way. Had the cut that Skylaar inflicted been delivered to bare flesh instead of the suit’s protective material, it would have caused serious injury.

  Sarah knew this, and nodded guiltily. “Yes, Sena’ tai,” she said, using the Nemesian honorific for her teacher. “You are right. I was too slow, and I should have gotten more distance and used my staff’s length to greater advantage. I was careless. Please forgive me.”

  “Knowledge is the profit earned from a lesson learned,” Skylaar quoted. Then her slitted eyes flicked briefly towards the glass doors. “Now, perhaps you would care to tell me why the girl is here?”

  “I intend for her to become an agent,” Sarah answered.

  Skylaar’s brows knitted. “Why is that? You’ve never taken on an apprentice before.”

  This was true. Although Sarah had recruited plenty of assets, she had never chosen an Agent-Candidate. Instead, she had been content to let the OAE handle all recruitment and training.

  “It is my prerogative,” Sarah replied. “If I find someone who is promising enough, you know that I can bypass the selection process.”

  This was also true. Agents were empowered to induct individuals that they felt would prove useful to the organization as operatives. It simply wasn’t a common practice. In fact, it was extremely rare.

  “So, tell me, how does s
he rate such an honor?” Skylaar asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

  Sarah answered, undaunted. “Maya is tough, resourceful, suspicious, and most of all, audacious. Did you know that despite all the rumors I had put in place, she actually tried to follow me and spy on my activities?”

  Skylaar panted lightly, the Nemesian equivalent of a dry chuckle. “I can imagine how that turned out.”

  Then, after a moment’s pause, she added, “But these qualities, however fine, still don’t justify your decision, nor explain why you wish to involve her. There must be more hiding in the trees here.”

  Sarah nodded. “There is, Sena-tai.” She went on to describe their first encounter at the hostel, and then Maya’s flight from the Customs Police. Finally, she shared what the Nyxian tarot had had to say on the matter.

  “I firmly believe that Fate is taking a hand here,” she concluded, confident that Skylaar more than anyone else, would understand. Nemesis had not forgotten the role of the paranormal in life’s affairs.

  “Whether she knows it or not, I think that this is the destiny that the Goddess intends for her.”

  “And what makes you think that she will accept such a destiny?” Skylaar challenged. “She seems to me like someone who would be content to live her life just as it is.”

  “I disagree,” Sarah returned. “I learned differently when I read her at Bel Sharra. Although she hasn’t quite realized it herself, she has grown tired of her wanderings. She is looking to find some real purpose to her life, and a place in the world. The Agency is that place.”

  “Perhaps,” Skylaar returned, uncertainty still shading her tone. “But ours is a rather dark and dangerous world, and certainly not suited to every woman.”

  “All Maya has ever known is darkness and danger,” Sarah refuted. “She understands that she will always be surrounded by it, and that it will play a part in her life. The prospect of gaining more control and power for herself in the face of that is something that she secretly yearns for.”