Seeds of Earth

  reason given beyond a veneration of the original

  designers.

  'Right, Jiang,' Kao Chih said, lifting his goggles to

  catch a glimpse of the main console's powerflow dis-

  play, then it was back to the rainbow data-forms of

  gauge 7. 'It's radial pair nine in the crystal array - you'll

  need to rebalance it by three increments ...'

  'Okay ... is that it?'

  'Just a moment - yes, Jiang, perfect.' He grinned. 'I'll

  buy the ch'a when we get back to the Mountain.'

  'That is very noble of you,' said Jiang. 'And who

  knows - I might have time to finish it before we go out

  again!'

  Chih laughed as he tugged off the goggles. After

  docking, the copilot always had a longer journey to the

  airlock as his monitor station was near the core of the

  tug, which left him with a significantly shorter break

  than the chief pilot.

  The remaining hour and a half of the Biaolong's

  ascent was uneventful. Once the tug was clear of the

  upper atmosphere, Chih opened the cabin viewport's

  shutters and gazed out at the sullen, roiling face of

  V'Harant while the headrest played old, poignant syn-

  thesiser motifs softly in the background. From this

  altitude the turbulent globe did suggest a place of tor-

  ment like Di-Yu; Great-Aunt Mei once had scandalised

  Kao Chih's mother and father by saying that V'Harant

  might even be a Chamber of Hell reserved for those

  who betrayed friends and family, abandoning them to

  ruthless enemies. The elder Kao's rebuke had been calm

  and measured, reminding her of how their forebears had

  been forced to flee destruction twice, firstly aboard the

  Tenebrosa when she and her sister ships fled the Swarm,

  and secondly when Hegemony mercenaries attacked

  their settlement on Pyre. He also pointed out that the

  ignoble character of her comments was a disservice

  towards the sept's collective sorrow.

  'Our sorrow?' Great-Aunt Mei had retorted. 'How

  do our trials compare with the bitter, wretched misery of

  the thousands who were left behind, and that of their

  children and their children's children? Deng Guo was a

  fool to lead us off into the fog-between-stars - if my

  father's father had been elected duizbang of the

  Retributor the sept would have sought out allies, not

  ended up here, indentured to cruel aliens...'

  Which was what such arguments about the past usually

  came down to - the flight from Pyre and how Great-Aunt

  Mei's grandfather would have made a better duizbang, or

  captain. Kao Chih suspected that he would have been no

  better, or possibly worse if Mei was any guide to her fore-

  bear's temperament. In any case, the 1,500-strong Human

  Sept's contract of indenture still had thirty-two years to

  run, after which they would be permitted to contact Earth

  and appeal for assistance for both themselves and the

  colonists on Pyre, if any remained alive by then. One hun-

  dred and ten years of servitude and silence, that was the

  price the Roug had asked in exchange for sanctuary from

  Suneye, the Hegemony-based corporate monoclan which

  had seized Pyre for its resources.

  Outside the pilot cabin, great cyclonic systems the

  colour of tilled earth moved slowly across the face of

  V'Harant. Kao Chih could see how an observer might

  consider it to be a place of punishment, yet in truth that

  was where the great floating cities of the Roug lay,

  shrouded by planetary storms in a system veiled by vast

  interstellar streams and clouds of dust and debris, the

  fog-between-stars which the Roug called Ydred. He

  smiled sardonically - anyone would think that they had

  something to hide.

  The Roug name for their main orbital was Agmedra'a

  but the humans called it the Mountain. It had a wide,

  roughly circular base from which clusters of refineries,

  silos, labs, yardfacs and residential structures rose, close-

  packed and tapering towards the apex. A shining,

  glittering spire in the full light of the sun, Busrul, or a

  conical mass of lights, beacons, and decorative holos

  when in the planet's shadow, as it was now. The glowing

  motes of hopcraft and other maintenance drones darted

  among the towers while the great, slow silhouettes of

  freighters came and went.

  But the upper reaches of the Mountain were closed to

  all members of Human Sept, who were restricted to the

  sublevels and the underdocks where they seldom

  encountered any crewmembers from visiting ships. Kao

  Chih guided the huge mass of the Biaolong into the

  embrace of a pair of mooring booms, which latched on,

  drawing it and its underslung cargo into the gloom of a

  large docking bay. Already unstrapped from the couch,

  Chih grabbed his ageing black jacket, told Jiang he

  would have the ch'a hot and ready for him in the can-

  teen, then headed out and along to the personnel

  airlock.

  The metal decking quivered slightly underfoot.

  Muffled thuds signalled the decoupling of the six huge

  ore containers that hung beneath the gravity-tug. As he

  approached the big airlock he heard clanks and the

  rough hum of motors, a moment's wait and the hatch

  opened with a brief pressure sigh accompanied by the

  smell of hot oil. It was normally a short walk along the

  dockside concourse to the tug-crew operations hall but

  as soon as he stepped out of the sinuous connecting tube

  a familiar voice called out his name in Mandarin.

  'Pilot Kao Chih!'

  Turning, he was surprised to see the tall, spindly form

  of a Roug approaching. Members of other indenture

  septs - furred Gomedra, six-limbed Bargalil and birdlike

  Kiskashin - hastened about their own tasks, careful to

  stay out of the Roug's path. Like all its kind, it was

  swathed from head to foot in tight windings of what

  looked like thin leather that gleamed with a dull coppery

  sheen. The legs were thin, the feet flat and toeless, and

  the long arms had two elbows and nine-fingered hands,

  but it was the silvery badges on the conoid head that

  confirmed its identity.

  'Noble Tumakri,' Kao Chih said. 'Unusual to see you

  out here.' Tumakri was assistant overseer of tug-crew

  assignments, and thus seldom seen outside the opera-

  tions hall.

  'Not usual, Pilot Kao Chih, but necessary!' The

  Roug's voice had a whispery, papery quality and came

  from the wrappings just below the almond-shaped

  meshes that protected its eyes. 'Special assessors have

  arrived from Chissu'ol, the reigning city on V'Harant,

  bearing edicts from the High Index - a Conclave of

  Purpose is to be held aboard your sept's chief vessel,

  and you are to be present.'

  The sounds of the busy dockside washed around

  them as Kao Chih stood in astonishment for a moment.

  'Me, Noble One? They wish me back on the Retributor?

  Must I depart soon?'

&
nbsp; 'Immediately, Pilot. A hopcraft is waiting in a nearby

  rectifier dock and I am to accompany you and deliver

  you safely to the conclave. Another pilot will take your

  place aboard the Biaolong but you will still be credited

  for a full shift.' The Roug made an odd shrugging

  gesture. 'This, I confess, is unheard of, unprecedented,

  yet we must comply. Please follow me, pilot.'

  So I get a paid half-day off and a trip to the

  Retributor} he thought, grinning as he hurried after the

  Roug. Why not}

  The hopcraft was small and cramped and had the

  unclean fur smell of the Gomedran techs who usually

  flew it and others like it. The rectifier dock's mooring

  booms flung the little maintenance boat out of the

  underhull where Kao Chih's companion ignited the reac-

  tion motors and set course. The Retributor's orbit kept

  it in the vicinity of the orbital Agmedra'a and it took less

  than half an hour for a bright pinpoint to grow into the

  grey, irregular, pockmarked shape that he knew so well.

  The Retributor had originally been one of a family of

  asteroids that orbited Pyre. After landfall, the colony-

  ship Tenebrosa was cannibalised into a number of small

  vessels and soon after that one of the asteroids was

  chosen as an orbital platform for planetary survey and

  as a base for mining operations. Decades later, after the

  first probing attack by the Suneye mercantilists, the star

  drive from the hulk of the Tenebrosa was hauled up

  into orbit and mounted on the adapted asteroid, then

  simply called the Rockhab. In the end, however, the

  mercantilists had returned with a force of mercenaries so

  overwhelming that the Rockhab's captain, Deng Guo's,

  only choice was surrender or flight.

  And here we are, he thought as the ugly, retrofitted

  mass of the Retributor drifted closer. Dispossessed

  twice over, trapped by the Roug contract, confined to

  certain areas of Agmedra'a and the core mines, but at

  least we're still alive.

  The Retributor's exterior was littered with protruding

  structures, coolant pipes and vanes, vents, bot hutches,

  antennae clusters, hatches, loading bays and hardpoint

  where defensive weapons had apparently once been

  mounted. Kao Chih knew that encrusted carapace,

  knew the inner geography that lay beneath those untidy

  features. Then he noticed that Tumakri was staring

  fixedly out at the Rockhab.

  'Tell me, Pilot Kao Chih - is your sept's homevessel

  safe?'

  Chih gave a small smile. 'Well, I have to admit, Noble

  One, that seal repairs are permanently ongoing, the

  airscrubbers always need purging, and the grav-decking

  can be a little uneven in places, yet 1,500 of my people

  are happy to make their home there. They work hard at

  keeping it safe.'

  'A candid reply, Pilot. I am reassured by your words.'

  Kao Chih nodded and went back to studying the

  Retributor, wondering if the grapple squads had fixed

  the ruptured fuel lines yet.

  They docked at the new loading bay, so called

  because it had been added soon after the Indenture, as

  opposed to the old loading bay, which had been part of

  the original facility. Stepping down from the hopcraft's

  hatch, they were confronted with another two Roug,

  both adorned with silvery hooked sigils attached to their

  necks. To Kao Chih's surprise, his companion hastily

  bowed to each in turn, which Chih was quick to emu-

  late. There followed a brief exchange in the rapid,

  polysyllabic Roug tongue, which was never taught to

  other races, after which one of the senior Roug

  addressed Chih.

  'Pilot Kao Chih - we are Assessors of the High Index

  and are commanded to escort you and Overseer

  Tumakri to the decision chambers of your elders, where

  certain materials will be examined.'

  Kao Chih swallowed nervously as he went with them

  to the bay's main arched entryway. This all seemed

  much more serious than he had first thought. Had he

  unknowingly infringed the terms of the Indenture, or

  perhaps been careless when casting off from the core

  mines down on V'Harant? Had he left a trail of wreck-

  age behind him, and were they about to show a

  recording of it to the Duizhang, K'ang Lo, and the other

  elders?

  No way to know, he thought, grasping at a straw of

  hope. Too soon to be sure.

  From the high plascrete curves of the loading bay

  and its busy unshipping carrels, they passed into a semi-

  circular lobby. Rounded openings led off, up, down and

  sideways, and without hesitation the leading Roug

  assessor headed for one of the downward exits.

  The Retributor was honeycombed with tunnels and

  chambers of every size which provided its occupants

  with necessities and amenities. As Kao Chih followed

  the Roug into the dim, biobulb-lit passageway known as

  Shang Street, it was the cooking smells that leaped upon

  his senses first, as always. No matter the shift, there was

  usually someone somewhere steaming vegetables,

  baking bread or whipping up a spiced stirfry. It was the

  essence of home, of normality, of an unexciting ordi-

  nariness which right then he longed for. The presence of

  the Roug, however, was anything but ordinary. Eyes,

  some amazed, some fearful, some fascinated to see Kao

  Chih in the company of aliens, followed their progress,

  heads craned out of doors and windows for a look and

  mouths whispered once they were past. This was an

  event, a source of gossip that would, he knew, be refined

  and refashioned endlessly over the next few days. Who

  could tell what they might be saying about him in a

  week!

  For a stretch Shang Street's right-hand wall looked

  out through a line of louvred windows and down into

  Many-Voices Hall, the Rockhab's main marketplace and

  gathering hub. As he walked Chih caught sight of some

  familiar places, the Steel Dragon teahouse, Cho Lai's

  repair shop, and the small balcony where Old Mother

  Yao gave I-Ching readings. Part of him wished he was

  down there, but in truth he was glad that none of his

  friends could witness his shame.

  Before long they reached the administration and

  command levels, quiet, carpeted corridors where

  amber-suited assistants hurried serenely on errands,

  and where the walls and ceilings emitted a pearly,

  ambient light. After turning a couple of corners they

  came face to face with two guards standing either side

  of a wooden door. On it were the five symbols of the

  Pyre colony - a tree, a bear, an open scroll, two crossed

  spears, and at the centre the t'ai chi, each one beauti-

  fully carved and inlaid with silver from the regalia of

  the original colonyship, the Tenebrosa. That was

  because it led to the Duizhang, K'ang Lo's, strategy

  room.

  This is it, he thought as the guard stood aside and
the

  Roug assessors led them in.

  It was worse than he had feared. The eyes of more

  than three dozen formally attired people looked round

  at the newcomers and Kao Chih realised that everyone

  of consequence was present, clan elders, duty directors,

  command staff, and his father, Kao Hsien. In the back-

  ground, rows of empty chairs waited.

  I'm doomed, he thought, resigned to fate - until he

  saw a certain look in his father's eyes, the kind he wore

  when he knew that a game of wei-chi was his ...

  'Ah, Pilot Kao - at last you are here.'

  K'ang Lo was a tall, barrel-chested man on whom the

  blue-and-black, long-sleeved duizbang's coat looked nat-

  ural. At once Kao Chih came to attention and gave a

  sharp bow of the head.

  'Sir, I...'

  'Not now, Pilot. Explanations will come later, once

  the mystery is revealed, neh?'

  He turned to the senior Roug and gave a slight but

  gracious bow, then made a small gesture to the atten-

  dants. The light began to dim gradually and everyone

  went to find a seat as one of the Roug set up a slender

  tripod with a glittering device at its apex. Kao Chih ind

  Tumakri found theirs off to the side. Meanwhile, the

  other Roug addressed the seated elders in perfectly

  inflected Mandarin.

  'Most diligent and industrious members of Human

  Sept - what you are about to see was very recently dis-

  seminated across all first- and second-tier news feeds in

  the greater general region ...'

  The first Roug straightened, stepped back from the

  tripod, and at once a holo appeared and began to play.

  A series of human commentators, Caucasian, Asiatic and

  African, was shown, interspersed with views of what

  looked like villages and towns on a lush, fertile world far

  from Earth. The commentary and dialogue was mostly

  in Anglic and Russian but someone - Chih assumed it

  was the Roug - had added Mandarin subtitles. As the

  story emerged and became clearer, excited whispers rip-

  pled around the room, because those towns and villages

  belonged to a Human settlement founded by one of the

  original colonyships which had fled Earth at the height of

  the Swarm War, taking random hyperspace jumps into

  the depths of space.

  The Tenebrosa, the Forrestal and the Hyperion. It