Sisterhood of Suns: Pallas Athena
Page 20
Skylaar inclined her head in agreement, and waited to hear the rest.
“It is also a---a feeling--that I have,” Sarah said. “Something is telling me that someday, she will prove to be very important to us. I cannot pinpoint what this might be, nor how it will come to pass, but it is there, and it has only grown stronger. This is meant to be, Sena-tai. I am sure of this.”
“There are some women in the Agency that would argue that that is not a valid reason for recruitment,” Skylaar rejoined.
But she also had to agree with her. Life, and her own dangerous profession, had taught her the value of listening to her instincts.
“I have one final question for you, Cho-sena,” she finally said. “Why do you care? Why do you want her to be an agent?”
Sarah sighed thoughtfully, then answered her. “I suppose that she reminds me of myself in a way—or of what I might have been had I the same background as her. Despite her disadvantages, I want to see her become everything that I have become, and then surpass me. Perhaps it is my bid for a tiny slice of immortality. Or vanity.”
“Or both,” Skylaar ventured wryly. “And also the chance to make a positive difference through her. To revisit old mistakes and set them a’right? To heal old wounds?”
Sarah looked away, her features clouding, and nodded. She had never been able to hide anything from Skylaar.
“I take it that young Maya has agreed to your offer?” the Nemesian asked.
“Not completely, Sena’ tai,” Sarah replied, facing her teacher again. “I am guiding her in that direction. But I believe the fact that she has been watching us during our entire lesson indicates a growing interest on her part.”
“And Lady Ananzi? Have you consulted her about this?” Skylaar inquired.
“Not yet, Sena-tai,” Sarah said. “However I am certain that when I plead my case, she will agree with my decision.”
“Very well,” Skylaar conceded. “What would you have of me?”
“Maya needs someone that she can trust and admire,” Sarah explained. “Someone that will help put a friendly face on the training process and teach her discipline. I simply cannot provide that face. She hates me, and she will continue to do so for a very long time.”
“Yes,” Skylaar agreed. “She does at that.” She also knew, just as Sarah did, that students often benefited from a combination of cruelty and kindness.
“So, will you help me?” Sarah asked.
“I will,” Skylaar said. “I too have the same intuitive feeling about her and sense the same qualities. The future will show us both if we are correct, however. In the meantime, while we await tomorrow’s arrival, shall we work on your skills some more?”
Sarah bowed to her deeply. “Yes, Sena’ tai. I would be honored if you would care to guide me. And thank you.”
“No thanks are needed,” Skylaar said, waving it off. “If she becomes the agent that we think she will be, that will be compensation enough.”
***
While Maya watched Sarah perform her own series of attacks with the double knives, Zara came up from behind and touched her on her shoulder. Startled by the unexpected contact, the girl whipped around and the old woman quickly withdrew her hand.
“Sorry girl,” the Engineer apologized, “I didn’t mean to give you a fright. Those two have been training here every day for so long that I forgot just how interesting they are to watch if you’ve never seen them go at it.’
She pointed towards the Nemesian. “That one with Sarah, she’s her teacher. Her name’s Skylaar taur Minna, and I’ve heard she’s one of the best to come out of the K’aut’sha Fighting School on Nemesis in years.”
Even though she was no martial artist herself, Maya could tell that this was not an exaggeration, just a simple statement of fact. No matter how cleverly Sarah tried, the Nemesian parried away all of her attacks with a deceptive ease. She appeared to exert no effort whatsoever, and where Sarah moved with competence, the Nemesian performed with an absolute grace, and a total economy of movement.
Maya felt a twinge of envy at the display. Living on the street, she had been in a few fights herself, and while she could hold her own, everything that she had learned had been gathered piecemeal, wherever and with whomever cared to show her a few moves. Seeing the pair engage in what was almost a dance, she realized that what she called fighting didn’t even approach their level of proficiency. Compared to them, her skills felt clumsy and inadequate.
I wonder how I would do, she thought, if I had a real teacher like that. Then it occurred to her that this was probably the very direction that Sarah had intended for her mind to take all along, and she angrily banished the notion.
“Didn’t you need to take me shopping?” she asked, eager to change the subject.
“Ay-yah. That, I did,” Zara replied. ”The Captain wanted me to get you squared away. You’re going to need good gear if you’re going to work aboard the JUDI.”
Maya followed her away from the window. “What will I be doing on the JUDI?” she asked. The ship only had four crewmembers and it was a question that had been on her mind since she’d reluctantly decided to accept Sarah’s offer.
“Oh, a little of this and a little of that,” Zara replied. “Mostly, you’ll be working under me and filling in at Hari’s old station.”
This surprised Maya. “Where’s Hari going?”
“Don’t know,” the woman answered, “but Sarah and the Captain talked it over and they agreed on a change of hands. So, you’re to become the new engineer’s mate. It’s a good place to start, you’ll get to know the JUDI real well that way.”
She paused and added, “By the way, keep that news buttoned-up tight, Maya. Hari hasn’t been told yet.”
“What news?” Maya responded with an ingenuous smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Zara grinned back. “That’s just what I was hoping you’d say, girl. Well, since you’re already dressed, let’s be off and take care of our business.”
An armored hovertaxi met them at the front gate. It took them to Ashkele’s exclusive Zinthara District, and down its main thoroughfare, the Street of the King of the Dead.
This boulevard was renown throughout the Sisterhood, and by most of its neighboring civilizations, as one of the premier shopping locations in the Far Arm. Maya knew it from her days as a runaway, but she had never been down it, nor inside any of its fashionable shops. The Zinthara was not a district that tolerated penniless waifs, and well-patrolled by the Guns. It was a side to Ashkele that until then, she had only glimpsed from the outside, and it was where the Free City’s real power as an economic force was made plain.
As the hovertaxi negotiated its way through traffic, passing alongside huge limousines, Maya pressed her nose to the glass and gaped at all the wealth and diversity that was on display. On one block, a pair of T'lakskalan slave masters walked out of an exclusive shop together, their favorite slaves chained to them by golden leashes, while Xee merchants hurried by encased in translucent bubbles. A few paces on, Anx’Ma nobility glided over the foot traffic on platinum-plated hover carries, clad in harnesses glittering with rare gems. And as the taxi turned a corner, Maya spotted a pair of bejeweled Seevaan Queens, accompanied by their retinues of handmaidens and warriors, debating the latest fashions, and using intricate gestures with their lacquered front pincers to express themselves. These and the elite of a dozen or more races that Maya didn’t even recognize, mixed and mingled together under the bright sunlight, united in one common endeavour; either to spend their wealth, or to acquire more of it.
In sharp contrast to the rest of Ashkele, the streets and the shops were immaculate. Everything was clean and polished and there were no street vendors hawking their wares, nor brawls of any kind. The Street of the King of the Dead was a place that existed completely apart from the rest of the port city. It was a true free market zone where all hostilities were set aside in favor of pure consumption.
The very last thing that
she expected was for the robot hovertaxi to slow, and park at the curb. Up until that instant, she had been under the impression that they were merely using the street as a detour to get somewhere else. Being able to see the place up close had been one thing, but actually shopping there, was another matter. Suddenly, Maya became painfully conscious of her worn jumpsuit and looked at Zara with frank incredulity. “We’re stopping here?”
“Yes, here,” Zara responded, “Far Star Outfitters has an outlet in this district. It’s the best place to get the best gear, and that’s what the Captain wanted us to do. And afterwards, if you’re in the mood, we can stop for lunch. I know I’d like to. The restaurants here are the finest outside the Sisterhood.”
“Of-of course,” Maya replied hesitantly, not entirely certain that her companion was being serious with her.
But Zara was, and got out of the taxi, gesturing for her to follow. As Maya did so, she instinctively looked around herself for any sign of the Guns. Although none of the robots were anywhere near them, she was half-certain that someone or something would realize that she didn’t fit in, and order her escorted out by the machines, or worse.
“You know, Maya, you’re really not the same girl that you were,” Zara said just loud enough for her to hear. “And we’re here to buy things. The Xee like anyone who comes to spend credits, no matter their past.’
“If you like,” she added, “we can stop in somewhere right now and get you something a little less…conspicuous. Would that make you feel a little better?”
Maya nodded vigorously, and let Zara guide her down the street into a clothing shop that catered to humanoid bipeds, including humans. When they reemerged, she had happily discarded her jumpsuit, and dressed herself in finer clothing that was more suited to her surroundings. But she still had to consciously fight off the urge to shrink away from two well-polished Guns that passed them as they made their way down the sidewalk. Habits, even if they were as old and as worn as her jumpsuit had been, were still habits, and hard to shake.
Her companion on the other hand, seemed oblivious to the robots and everything else. Zara acted as if she was used to the place, and the outrageous amount of credits that they had just spent on clothing seemed insignificant to the woman.
It was another surprising facet to the JUDI, and her crew, that Maya filed away in her mind for future reference. If things got bad, she told herself, or a better opportunity came along, they obviously had enough credits and valuables to see her safely away. In the meantime, she planned to enjoy what she could of their largesse. While it lasted.
After a few blocks, they reached their destination. Far Star Outfitters occupied an entire corner in the middle of the Street of the King of the Dead. There was no mistaking the place. Its name was one that Maya and anyone else who traveled through Null knew and respected, and the store was not modest with its signage.
An elaborate animated holo, complete with a generic merchanter flying out of it, commanded the eye as the companies name and trademark followed in the ship’s digitized wake. It was displayed in several languages, including Standard, and the holo itself was projected in different light bands so that any eye, human or otherwise, could see the advertisement and know that the finest goods available to spacefarers were there, and ready for sale.
When they entered the store, the resident AI greeted them warmly, using the projected image of a human female, dressed in an impeccable jumpsuit that was emblazoned, quite naturally, with the store’s name and logo.
“Sa'la jantildamé,” the virtual guide said. “How can Far Star Outfitters assist you today?”
“We have an account with you,” Zara answered. “We’d like to get several worksuits and a kit for my mate here, and I also wanted to pick up a jacket for her, made to our specifications.”
She supplied the account information and the AI processed it. Then a scanner beam played briefly over Maya.
“Yes,” the holo agreed, “and now that we have her measurements, we will have everything ready for you in just a few minutes. In the meantime, may I invite you ladies to browse, or perhaps enjoy some of our Sitalan Orange Pekoe? It’s quite refreshing.”
“That’s a fine idea,” Zara agreed. “A cup of tea would give my friend here a wonderful opportunity to become familiar with the jacket’s features.” The holo beckoned them to accompany her, and led them to an informal lounge area in the back of the store.
Maya gave Zara a puzzled look. “Why would I need to review a jacket’s features?” she asked. “If I remember it right, you zip it up to stay warm and take it off when you’re too hot. How complicated can that be?”
“This jacket is just a little bit--special,” Zara said mysteriously as she took her seat and a cup of tea. “You’ll see.”
After a few minutes, a salesbot appeared, carrying a rather conventional looking jacket made from vat-grown leather. Maya took it from the machine and inspected it. Although it was attractive enough, and there seemed to be some items inside its pockets and nestled in the lining, it looked like any other jacket that she had ever owned, albeit of better quality.
Zara smiled knowingly, and the salesbot spoke. “Miss, there is a guided informational holo for this garment. If you would be kind enough to open the left front pocket, and withdraw the sealed pouch, it will begin.
Still wondering what might make this garment so singular that it required a tour, Maya did as the ‘bot instructed. When she withdrew the pouch, a voice sounded in the air around her.
“Greetings, customer,” it said, “and welcome to an interactive tour of your new ApeeCorp Adventurer Jacket. This garment has been constructed of the finest ballistic and e-blast resistant materials available.’
“It also comes equipped with the latest safety equipment and features. The pouch you are now holding contains a first aid kit, food bars, a water purifying straw, a mirror, a combination shelter and poncho, sealable plastic storage bags, a compass and a micro-signal light.” A virtual image of each item was displayed in a hologram that floated in front of her.
“Are you sure you didn’t forget something?” Maya asked dryly.
“No, ma’am,” the voice replied somewhat indignantly. “I am quite sure that my inventory of that packet is complete.”
“Of course. Sorry,” Maya said, trying to ferret out where the holojector had been hidden on the garment. One button near the collar looked particularly suspicious and she gently placed her finger over it.
The voice reacted immediately. “Please!” it said, “do not touch the projector lens! Do you wish to terminate this tour?”
“No,” Maya replied, removing the offending digit. “Please, continue.”
“If you will return the pouch you are holding to its compartment, I can show you some of the other features of this jacket.” Amused and intrigued, Maya complied.
“In the lower left arm pocket you will find 30 meters of monofilament line. This cord, although very fine, has the tensile strength of the high-grade plastisteel and can support weights up to 1,133 kilograms. A special climbing ring, hidden in another pocket, next to the zipper, allows the user to secure themselves to the line when climbing becomes necessary.”
“Very ingenious,” Maya remarked.
“Indeed,” the voice agreed. There was a definite note of pride in its artificial tone. “Now, if I might direct your attention to the left upper arm pouch.”
Maya unsealed the pocket.
“In this pocket you will find a folding plastisteel mini-grapple, and a micro-plazer saw. The plazer saw is capable of cutting through some of the hardest surfaces known in the Far Arm, and the grapple, although small, is strong enough to easily support the weight of a medium-sized hovercar without failing.”
Maya couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to suspend such a heavy vehicle from the tiny device, but the claim was impressive nonetheless.
“Now, in your upper right arm,” the voice continued, “you will find a universal lock-picking kit and 10 packets of a chemi
cal explosive compound with built-in biotimer devices.”
“I take it that the explosives are provided just in case the universal lock-picking kit doesn’t prove to be so…um…universal?” Maya asked.
“Of course not!” the voice replied, clearly appalled. “It was placed there for general emergency purposes. The universal lock-picking kit is guaranteed to grant access to any lock, mechanical or electronic.”
“ My apologies,” Maya said.
“If we might continue,” the voice said in a decidedly flustered tone, “in your right forearm pocket you will find a mini-re-breathing device for underwater travel and a plastisteel knife.”
“Basically the perfect evening wear for the all-around spy, then,” Maya remarked. “Is that all, or does the jacket turn into a hovercar if I unzip the correct pocket?”
Unfortunately, the voice didn’t have the programming to understand sarcasm when it heard it. “I am profoundly sorry,” it replied, sounding genuinely regretful. “The jacket does not have flight capability. However it does possess several other features that you will find are quite useful. May I tell you about them?”
“Sure,” Maya agreed, trying her best to sound serious. “Please, tell me more.”
“The jacket also has numerous empty pockets so that the wearer may store additional equipment and weapons, as they desire. The contents are guaranteed to be shielded from all known forms of detection-scans by a specialized inner lining.’
“You will also note that the jacket’s temperature may be regulated by psiever-command and, as an added feature, this holojector may be used to project a mirror image of the wearer to a distance of 30 meters, line-of-sight, and to a lesser distance around corners.”
“Well, I’m glad you told me all this,” Maya said, “Otherwise I might have given this jacket away to charity.”
The voice was absolutely scandalized. “Charity? This jacket is brand new and made from the finest--”
“I was just joking,” Maya assured it. “I can see that it is one of the finest and best equipped garments ever devised for the adventurer. Thank you for the tour.”