Ione stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing. Her hand slapped his shoulder. “God, you’re impossible.”
Joshua shifted round to give her a hurt look. “What?”
She put her arms round him and moulded her body contentedly to his, closing her eyes. “Don’t forget to tell that one to the children.”
Tranquillity observed Joshua’s expression sink to mild exasperation. Elaborate thought routines operating within the vast neural strata briefly examined the possibility that he was telling the truth, but in the end decided against.
* * *
Harkey’s Bar was having a modest resurgence in fortune. Relative to the absolute downtime endured during the quarantine when its space industry clientele were careful with their money, this was a positive boom. Not back up to precrisis levels yet; but the ships were returning to Tranquillity’s giant counter-rotating spaceport. Admittedly they were mundane inter-orbit vessels rather than starships, but nonetheless they brought new cargoes, and crews with heavy credit disks, and paid the service companies for maintenance and support. The masters of commerce and finance living in the starscraper penthouses were already making deals with the awesome Edenist industrial establishment in whose midst they had so fortuitously materialized. It wouldn’t be long before all the dormitoried starships were powered up and started travelling to Earth, and Saturn, and Mars, and the asteroid settlements. Best of all, the buzz was back among the tables and booths, industry gossip was hot and hectic. Such confidence did wonders for liberating anticipation and credit disks.
Sarha, Ashly, Dahybi, and Beaulieu had claimed their usual booth, as requested by Joshua who’d told them he wanted a meeting. They didn’t have any trouble, at quarter to nine in the morning there were only a dozen other people in the place. Dahybi sniffed at his coffee after the waitress had departed. Even their skirts were longer at this time of day. “It’s not natural, drinking coffee in here.”
“This time isn’t natural,” Ashly complained. He poured some milk into his cup, and added the tea. Sarha tsked at him; she always mixed it the other way round.
“Are we flying?” Dahybi asked.
“Looks like it,” Beaulieu said. “The captain authorized the service engineering crew to remove the hull plates over Lady Mac’s damaged node. The only reason to do that is to replace it.”
“Not cheap,” Ashly muttered. He stirred his tea thoughtfully.
Joshua pulled the spare seat out and sat down. “Who’s not cheap?” he asked briskly.
“Replacement nodes,” Sarha said.
“Oh, them.” Joshua stuck up a finger, and a waitress popped up at his side. “Tea, croissants, and orange juice,” he ordered. She gave him a friendly smile, and hurried off. Dahybi frowned. Her skirt was short.
“I’m flying Lady Mac tomorrow,” Joshua told them. “Just as soon as the Oenone returns from the O’Neill Halo with my new nodes.”
“Does the First Admiral know?” Sarha inquired lightly.
“No, but Consensus does. This is not a cargo flight, we’ll be leaving with Admiral Saldana’s squadron.”
“We?”
“Yes. That’s why you’re here. I’m not going to press gang you this time. You get consulted. I can promise a long and very interesting trip. Which means I need a good crew.”
“I’m in, Captain,” Beaulieu said quickly.
Dahybi sipped some coffee and grinned. “Yes.”
Joshua looked at Sarha and Ashly. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“To the Tyrathca Sleeping God, so we can ask it how to solve the possession crisis. Ione and the Consensus believe it’s on the other side of the Orion nebula.”
Sarha deliberately looked away, studying Ashly’s face. The pilot was lost in stupefaction. Joshua’s simple words were the perfect bewitchment for a man who’d given up normal life to witness as much of eternity as he could. And Joshua knew that, Sarha thought. “Monkey and a banana,” she muttered. “All right, Joshua, of course we’re with you.” Ashly nodded dumbly.
“Thanks,” Joshua told them all. “I appreciate it.”
“Who’s handling fusion?” Dahybi asked.
“Ah,” Joshua produced an uncomfortable expression. “The not-so-good news is that our friend Dr Alkad Mzu is coming with us.” They started to protest. “Among others,” he said loudly. “We’re carrying quite a few specialists with us this trip. She’s the official exotic physics expert.”
“Exotic physics?” Sarha sounded amused.
“Nobody knows what this God thing actually is, so we’re covering all the disciplines. It won’t be like the Alchemist mission. We’re not on our own this time.”
“Okay, but who do you want as fusion officer?” Dahybi repeated.
“Well . . . Mzu’s specialist field at the Laymil project was fusion systems. I could ask her. I didn’t know how you’d all feel about that.”
“Badly,” Beaulieu said. Joshua blinked. He’d never heard the cosmonik express a definite opinion before, not about people.
“Joshua,” Sarha said firmly. “Just go and ask Liol, all right? If he says no, fine, we’ll get someone else. If he says yes, it’ll be with the understanding that you’re the captain. And you know he’s up to the job. He deserves the chance, and I don’t just mean to crew.”
Joshua looked round the other three, receiving their encouragement. “Suppose there’s no harm in asking,” he admitted.
* * *
The crews were starting to refer to themselves as the Deathkiss squadron. On several occasions the phrase had almost slipped from Rear-Admiral Meredith Saldana’s own mouth as well. Discipline had kept it from being spoken, rather than neural nanonic prohibitions, but he sympathised with his personnel.
The sol-system news companies were hailing Tranquillity’s appearance in Jupiter orbit as a huge victory over the possessed, and Capone in particular. Meredith didn’t see it quite that way. It was the second time the squadron had gone up against the possessed, and the second time they’d been forced to retreat. This time they owed their lives entirely to luck . . . and his own rebel ancestor’s foresight. He wasn’t entirely sure if the universe was being ironic or contemptuous towards him. The only certainty in his life these days was the squadron’s morale, which was close to nonexistent. His day cabin’s processor datavised an admission request, which he granted. Commander Kroeber and Lieutenant Rhoecus air swam through the open hatch. They secured their feet on a stikpad and saluted.
“At ease,” Meredith told them. “What have you got for me?”
“Our assignment orders, sir,” Rhoecus said. “They’re from the Jovian Consensus.”
Meredith gave Commander Kroeber a brief glance. They’d been waiting for new orders from the 2nd Fleet headquarters in the O’Neill Halo. “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
“Sir, it’s a secure operation. CNIS has located an antimatter production station, they asked Jupiter to eliminate it.”
“Could have been worse,” Meredith said. For all it was rare, an assault on an antimatter station was a standard procedure. A straightforward mission like this was just what the crews needed to restore confidence in themselves. Then he noticed the reservation in Rhoecus’s expression. “Continue.”
“A supplementary order has been added by the Jovian Security sub-Consensus. The station is to be captured intact.”
Meredith hardened his expression, knowing Consensus would be observing his disapproval through Rhoecus’s eyes. “I really do hope that you’re not going to suggest we start arming ourselves with that abomination.”
If anything, Rhoecus seemed rather relieved. “No, sir, absolutely not.”
“Then what are we capturing it for?”
“Sir, it’s to be used for fuelling the Lady Macbeth’s antimatter drive unit. Consensus is sending a pair of ships beyond the Orion nebula.”
The statement was so extraordinary Meredith initially didn’t know what to make of it. Though that ship’s name . . . Oh yes, of course, Lagrange Calvert;
and there was also the matter of a ludicrously ballsy manoeuvre through Lalonde’s upper atmosphere. “Why?” he asked mildly.
“It’s a contact mission with the non-Confederation Tyrathca. We believe they may have information relevant to possession.”
Meredith knew he was being judged by Consensus. An Adamist—a Saldana—being asked by Edenists to break the very law the Confederation was formed to enforce. At the least I should query 2nd Fleet headquarters. But in the end it comes down to trust. Consensus would never initiate such a mission without a good reason. “We live in interesting times, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir; unfortunately, we do.”
“Then let’s hope we outlive them. Very well. Commander Kroeber, squadron to stand by for assault duties.”
“Consensus has designated fifteen voidhawks to join us, sir,” Rhoecus said. “Weapons loading for the frigates has been given full priority.”
“When do we leave?”
“The Lady Macbeth is undergoing some essential maintenance. She should be ready to join the squadron in another twelve hours.”
“I hope this Lagrange Calvert character can stay in formation,” Meredith said.
“Consensus has every confidence in Captain Calvert, sir.”
* * *
The two of them sat at a table by the window in Harkey’s Bar. Glittering stars chased a shallow arc behind them as their drinks were delivered. Two slender crystal flutes of Norfolk Tears. The waitress thought that wonderfully romantic. They were both captains, he in crumpled overalls but still with the silver star on his shoulder, she in an immaculate Edenist blue satin ship-tunic. A handsome couple.
Syrinx picked her glass up and smiled. “We really shouldn’t be drinking. We’re flying in seven hours.”
“Absolutely,” Joshua agreed. He touched his glass to hers. “Cheers.” They both sipped, relishing the drink’s delectable impact.
“Norfolk was such a lovely world,” Syrinx said. “I was planning on going back next midsummer.”
“Me too. I’d got this amazing deal lined up. And . . . there was a girl.”
She took another sip. “Now there’s a surprise.”
“You’ve changed. Not so uptight.”
“And you’re not so irresponsible.”
“Here’s to the sustainable middle ground.” They touched glasses again.
“How’s the refit coming on?” Syrinx asked.
“On schedule so far. We’ve got the new reaction mass tanks installed in Lady Mac’s cargo holds. I left the engineering team plumbing them in. Dahybi is running integration protocols through the new node; there’s some kind of software disparity with the rest of them. But then there always is a problem with new units, the manufacturers can never resist trying to improve something that works perfectly well already. He’ll have it debugged ready for departure time.”
“Sounds like you have a good crew.”
“The best. How’s Oenone?”
“Fine. The supplement fusion generators are standard items. We already had the attachment points for them in the cargo cradles.”
“Looks like we’re running out of excuses, then.”
“Yeah. But I bet the view from that side of the nebula is quite something.”
“It will be.” He hesitated for a moment. “Are you all right?”
Syrinx studied him over the top of the flute; her ability to read Adamist emotions was quite adroit these days, so she considered. His genuine concern gladdened her. “I am now. Bit of a basket case for a while, after Pernik, but the doctors and my friends helped put me back together again.”
“Good friends.”
“The best.”
“So why this flight?”
“Mainly Oenone and I are flying because we think this is how we can contribute best. If that sounds superior, I apologise, but it’s what I feel.”
“It’s the only reason I’m here. You know, you and I are pretty unique. There’s not many of us who’ve come face to face with the possessed and survived. That does tend to focus the mind somewhat.”
“I know what you mean.”
“I’ve never been so scared before. Death is always so difficult for us. Most people just ignore it. Then when you start to see your last days drifting away you content yourself that you’ve had a good life, that it hasn’t been for nothing. And, hey, there might be an afterlife after all, which is good because deep down you’ve convinced yourself you did your best, so the plus column is always going to be in the black when it comes to Judgement day. Only there isn’t a Judgement day, the universe doesn’t care.”
“Laton worked it out; that’s what gets me. I’ve retrieved that last message of his time and again, and he really believed Edenists won’t be trapped in the beyond. Not even one in a billion of us, he said. Why, Joshua? We’re not that different, not really.”
“What does Consensus think?”
“There’s no opinion yet. We’re trying to ascertain the general nature of the possessed, and compare it to our own psychological profile. Laton said that would provide us with an insight. The Mortonridge Liberation ought to generate a great deal of raw data.”
“I’m not sure how helpful that’ll be. Every era has a different outlook. What’s thoroughly normal behaviour for a Seventeenth Century potter is going to be utterly different from you. I always think Ashly’s ridiculously old fashioned on some things; he’s horrified by the way kids today can access stim programs.”
“So am I.”
“But you can’t restrict access, not in a universal data culture like ours. You have to educate society about what’s acceptable and what isn’t. A little adolescent experimentation isn’t harmful, in moderation. We have to concentrate on pushing the moderation aspect, help people come to terms with what’s out there. The alternative is censorship, which the communication nets will defeat every time.”
“That’s defeatism. I’m not saying people shouldn’t be educated about the problems of stim programs; but if you made the effort, Adamist culture could abolish them.”
“Knowledge can’t be destroyed, it has to be absorbed and accommodated.” He glanced dolefully out at Jupiter. “As I tried to argue with the First Admiral. He wasn’t terribly impressed, either.”
“I’m not surprised. The fact we’re going to use antimatter on this flight is restricted information. Rightly so.”
“That’s different—” Joshua began, then grunted. “Looks like I’m not going to make it past the beyond. Don’t think like an Edenist.”
“No, that’s not right. This is just a difference in beliefs. We both agree stim addiction is a dreadful blight, we just differ on how to treat it. We still think the same way. I don’t understand this! Damnit!”
“Let’s hope the Sleeping God can show us the difference.” He gave her a tentative look. “Can I ask a personal question?”
She rubbed the tip of her index finger round the rim of the flute, then sucked on it. “Joshua Calvert, I have a devoted lover, thank you.”
“Er, actually, I was wondering if you had any children.”
“Oh,” she said, and promptly blushed. “No, I don’t. Not yet anyway. My sister Pomona has three; it makes me wonder what I’ve been doing with my time.”
“When you do have children, how do you raise them? Voidhawk captains, I mean. You don’t have them on board, do you?”
“No, we don’t. Shipboard life is for adults, even aboard a voidhawk.”
“So how do they grow up?”
“What do you mean?” It was a strange question, especially from him. But she could see it was important.
“They haven’t got you there as a mother.”
“Oh, I see. It doesn’t matter, for them anyway. Voidhawk captains tend to have fairly large extended families. I must take you to see my mother some time, then you’ll see first-hand. Any children I have while I’m still flying with Oenone will be taken care of by my army of relatives, and the habitat as well. I’m not propagandising, but Edenism is one
giant family. There’s no such thing as an orphan among us. Of course, it’s hard on us captains, having to kiss goodbye to our babies for months at a time. But that’s been the fate of sailors for millennia now. And of course, we do get to make up for it at the end. When Oenone’s eggs are birthed, I wind up at ninety years old in a house with a dozen screaming infants. Imagine that.”
“Are they happy, those other children? The ones you have to leave behind.”
“Yes. They’re happy. I know you think we’re terribly formal and mannered, but we’re not mechanoids, Joshua, we love our children.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “You okay?”
“Oh yeah. I’m okay.” He concentrated on his flute. “Syrinx. You can count on me during the flight.”
“I know that, Joshua. I reviewed the Murora memory a few times, and I’ve spoken to Samuel, too.”
He gestured out at the starfield. “The real answer lies out there, somewhere.”
“Consensus has known that all along. And as the Kiint wouldn’t tell me . . .”
“And I’m not smart enough to help the research professors . . .”
They smiled. “Here’s to the flight,” Syrinx said.
“Soaring where angels fear to fly.”
They downed the remainder of their Norfolk Tears. Syrinx blew heavily, and blinked the moisture away from her eyes. Then she frowned at the figure standing at the bar. “Jesus, Joshua, I didn’t know there was two of you.”
The enjoyable surprise of hearing an Edenist swear in such a fashion was quelled with pique when he saw who she was talking about. He stuck his hand up and waved Liol over.
“Delighted to meet you,” Liol said when Joshua introduced them. He polished up the Calvert grin for her benefit, and kissed her hand.
Syrinx laughed, and stood up. “Sorry Liol, I’m afraid I had my inoculation some time ago.” Joshua was chuckling.
“I’ll leave the pair of you to it,” she said, and gave Joshua a light kiss. “Don’t be late.”
The Night's Dawn Trilogy Page 289