“I don’t do anything like that,” said Allen.
“Spoken like a true Guardian,” I said, and had the satisfaction of seeing his mouth fall open in astonishment.
“You must have looked up my birth date on the Infogrid.”
I raised a hand and put the other upon my heart.
“I swear by my honor, I did not,” I said. “You may check. The only listings I examined were your musical preferences. They are rather like mine, by the way. You will find our playlists have numerous entries in common.”
“That’s scary!” Gillian said, with a delighted shiver. “Tell us more! My girlfriend Corlota is a Penguin.”
“Then you two are compatible,” I said. “At least by your main star sign. I would have to compare your charts.”
She brought forth her viewpad with the speed of lightning. “I’m sending you both our birthdays,” she said. “I am dying to hear your interpretation!”
“Why not?” I said, happy to find others interested in my studies. “But let it wait until our next rest shift. I do not want to enrage our supervisor by neglecting our duties.” I picked up the next seedling.
“Work too hard,” said the Uctu, his mouth gaping in a smile.
“Not if I can help it,” Oskelev said. She moved on to the next empty tank.
“And what is this one, dear captain?”
Though the ceilings in the garden were high, my cousin’s voice echoed easily off them. I heard her friends whispering and chatting as well. We fell silent to listen.
“Er, well,” the captain’s voice said, rather uncertainly, “it says ‘tarragon.’ It’s served with chicken and a lot of vegetables, I think.”
So she had talked him into giving her a tour of the hydroponics section, I mused. I shook my head. Poor Captain Naftil. He had no idea of the forces that had been let loose.
“Cousin conquest,” Redius murmured, with an amused bark.
“I know,” I said, assuming an expression of extreme woe. I went on with my tasks until the group of them broke cover from the aisle to my left.
Jil had on an outfit of gold tissue that seemed to be transparent, though it most assuredly was not, yet it clung to every curve. Her hair, billowing, wavy tresses interspersed with a tiny braid here and there, had been dressed with glittering green and blue jewels in the shapes of birds and butterflies. Behind her, the other ladies were similarly clad, though with fewer precious adornments. The temperate climate of the ship permitted the wearing of lightweight garments. These were not only light, but cut so as to provide the maximum of distraction. All of my human companions stared as the ladies approached. “Don’t give them the satisfaction,” I added, unable to keep the peevish note out of my voice. “They do it on purpose.”
“They’re . . . fabulous,” Gillian said.
“I know. Annoying, isn’t it?”
I stopped what I was doing to offer the captain a polite salute.
“Welcome, captain,” I said.
He returned it without glancing back at me.
“As you were, spacer,” he said.
It took all of my self-control not to let my mouth drop open. Spacer!
Jil saw the interchange. Her eyes rounded with wicked merriment. Never one to avoid taking advantage, she seized one of the tiny plants I was tending right out of my fingers.
“And what is this one? I am sure it will grow into something most delicious!”
“Er, well . . .” The captain’s handsome face screwed up into a boyish expression of confusion.
“Rokufian parsley,” I supplied.
“That’s it,” Captain Naftil said, without looking at me. “Thank you, spacer. It’s served in salads, mainly. I think. I’m not much of a cook. I leave that to the specialists. We have a remarkably good kitchen staff aboard, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” Jil gushed. “That delicate little egg casserole at lunch was absolutely marvelous! The Emperor’s own cooks would be proud to have served that.”
Naftil’s dusky complexion suffused with red. “You are much too kind, Lady Jil.”
“I only speak the truth,” my cousin said, with a slow smile. “It’s far too much trouble to recall all the lies I might tell. I am far too lazy, as any of my relatives would be glad to tell you.”
She dropped the small plant into his hand. He held it out behind him for me to take, which I did without comment. The ladies, trailing along behind the pair, registered amusement on their faces, but did not laugh aloud.
I was not accustomed to being so ignored, and the ignominy roiled up within me. Still, I had promised my mother not to undermine the captain’s authority. In her name, I bore my disgrace bravely. I went on repotting herbs with one eye on my cousin.
Jil made the most of her conquest. Like a gazelle in the moonlight, she led the captain up and down the aisles of plants, asking their names and uses. Her entourage chatted quietly among themselves behind them. Once in a while, one of the ladies caught my eye and offered me a sympathetic look. It was clear Jil had no intention of correcting the captain’s misconception. The poor man was entirely besotted. He had no idea how he appeared to his subordinates, but until her spell was broken, he would never know. I had no intention of breaking it to him.
“Let me show you back to your sitting room,” Captain Naftil said. “As you were, spacers.”
“Aye, sir!” we chorused.
I glanced backward. They were leaving. My torture was nearly complete, when Banitra threw a playful smirk over her shoulder.
“Good afternoon, Lord Thomas,” Banitra said.
“Lord Thomas? Where?” Captain Naftil wheeled around as I turned. He realized in that moment that the gardening assistant he had so casually dismissed was me. His face became ruddy with embarrassment. His manner changed at once from master of his ship to awkward, raw recruit. I could almost see his long limbs become gangly. “Your pardon, Kinago. It was not my intention to ignore you.”
Or your mother, was the unspoken aside. I hastened to reassure him.
“No offense taken, captain,” I said cheerfully. “I am here to undertake my duties. Your mind was pleasantly engaged.”
“Thomas loves playing dress-up,” Jil said, twining her arm into his. He looked from her to me, and back again, doing his best to reconcile the unholy glee she was so obviously enjoying with the exquisite package in which the malice was wrapped. She could have identified me upon his first failure, but she had not, leaving him in a stage of unnecessary mortification. “It is good of you to indulge him.”
“I am proud to fulfill my assignments, sir,” I said. I maintained an attitude of stiff parade rest, elbows akimbo, hands open and flat against my back, when normally, I would release a fleering version of my patented laugh upon her. It would in this case rebound upon an innocent party, the captain. “Would you like me to explain what we have been doing today, sir?”
It seemed difficult for Naftil to regain his voice. When it re-emerged, it was hoarse.
“Thank you, Lieutenant, but no.”
“As you wish, Captain.”
Behind the captain’s back, Jil stuck her tongue out at me. When the captain turned to avoid meeting my eyes, I made a horrible face at her.
Assuming a pace that was less than accommodating to his guests in their high-heeled shoes, Naftil fled the arena, though in my view he was taking his foe with him.
CHAPTER 14
“You promised you would read my charts,” Gillian said, eagerly, when we met with all our other new friends in the recreation area the next evening after our work shift.
From the large case I had conveyed from my cabin, I extracted some of my fortune-telling gear that Parsons had neither succeeded in removing from the Rodrigo nor losing in transit. In a corner of the card room, I shook out the folds of my tent and spread them over the collapsible framework of poles and rings. Once it was settled to my liking, I erected my table and stools, and set my viewpad to shine impressive-looking mystical charts upon the cloth walls. I clos
ed the flaps of my tent so I could don my robe in private. I wore my own lucky circuit around my throat.
When I was ready, I flipped open the swathes of black silk, and beckoned to Gillian.
“Oh, my!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Look at you!”
“Well, you must have the entire show,” I said, modestly.
“This is a whole circus! I didn’t expect all this.”
“That’s some outfit. What do the symbols on the robe mean?” man asked.
“The constellations as seen from Keinolt,” I said. “Should I ever achieve astral projection, they are to guide me home again.”
“Really? I thought they were just for decoration.”
“Everything has a meaning,” I said. “I will have to show you my research.”
“Do I have to read a bunch of dusty old books?” he asked, wrinkling his snub nose.
“I did,” I said cheerfully. “You’d be surprised what amazing wisdom existed before electronic record-keeping.” I turned to Gillian and extended a hand. “Come and sit down. Your fate awaits you.”
“Oooh,” she said . . . with a playful grin, as she followed me in.
The entire table rose and crowded around the entrance to my tent. Gillian sat down opposite me, her eyes wide.
I brought up her birth chart and played it on the nearest swathe of cloth. She had been born far from the center of the Core Worlds, in a small mining colony with a wealth of rare earths on a vector toward the Kail worlds. My program adjusted the planetary aspects to account for the discrepancies. Although it did not change the zodiac itself, it did widen certain houses of influence and narrow others. I explained all this to her, but I could see by her expression that little of it sank in.
“But what’s it mean for me?” she asked. “Fortunes always advise you on your career and love. That’s what I want to know.”
“I knew you would.” Over the constellations on display, I placed artistic renderings of the images associated with them. Minor star clusters sprang into being, as well. “Your native sun in Alchemist shows that you are a meticulous person. In trine, which is to say that it is exactly four signs away from it, the star system we call the Giver. In ancient Earth astrology, they used the planets that circled Sol, but it seemed odd to those who rewrote the texts for an interplanetary civilization. In their place, we have a host of small stars that lend their countenance to a reading.”
“But most of those stars don’t move very fast,” Oskelev said. As an astrogator, she would know that. “They’d be in everyone’s chart in the same place.”
I used the pointer light in the viewpad’s lecture program to show everyone the aspects in question.
“The sun appears to move, from the point of view of someone standing on the surface of a planet, and the ascendant sign pertains to one’s time of birth, so they would not be in precisely the same location, even if they occupy the same sign. The same was true in old astrology. Some planets took hundreds of years to circle Sol, so generations would have the same sign. I believe that the not-quite-as-ancient astrologers chose star systems that do have energetic movement to substitute for those planets. So, Gillian, I see that you are generous to your friends, but your fifth house, your needs in love and relationships, says you are not as kind to yourself, perhaps.”
Her brow wrinkled ever so slightly. I was afraid of that, having spotted the inauspicious connections.
“Your chart bodes well for a good career, though,” I continued, changing the subject. “As your sun sign is above the midheaven, you will gain recognition. And this small constellation, the White Dragon, is in your tenth house, career. You may focus on a specialty that interests you, because others will notice your application to task.”
“And love?” she asked, with a hopeful lift to her brows.
Although the Penguin was in trine to the Alchemist, the other readings in Corlota’s chart suggested to me that she was close to moving on from my young friend. I had also gained the same impression from Corlota’s attitude. The lady had not moved to embrace Gillian with the same eagerness with which she was embraced when they met at the beginning of the rest period.
“That is for the future,” I said firmly, not meeting her eyes. “Your friendship house is well aspected, though. I had not realized how popular you are.”
She blushed. I seized her hand and turned the palm upward.
“Let me read your fate lines,” I said. “Let us see how long it is until you are an admiral.”
The others chuckled. I tapped the viewpad and brought up palm charts. As she was a human being, I used the original, some ten millennia old.
“Your head line shows a strong career. The lines that cross it point to both work and friendship. I would be surprised if you ever leave the navy.”
“It’s been good so far,” she agreed.
“A very long life,” I said, tracing the curving line that circled the base of her thumb. Her palm twitched. “I am sorry, am I tickling you?”
“A little.”
I ran my finger to a place where the arcing line broke and ran parallel to itself before angling to the base of the palm.
“Be aware of the possibility of a catastrophic illness or injury. It isn’t indicated before your seventh or eighth decade, but it would do you well to have a support plan in place,” I said. Cross-hatching above the mound of Venus said it would be severe. I glanced at her face and saw concern there. “This hand shows the potentials in your future. Let me see the other one for the actual events in your life to date.”
Nervously, she extended it.
“She’s got two hands,” Allen said, “but what if someone only has one hand, or had it regrown?”
I lifted my brows.
“That is a very good question, Allen. The oracles don’t have anything on that, so I’ll have to make it up myself.”
“What? You can’t look up something like that?” Gillian asked, concerned.
I shook my head, amused.
“It’s not exactly case law, old girl. I will use my best intuition and knowledge of the science, and fill in the blanks. It’s undoubtedly what our ancestors did. I merely follow their example.” I perused her second hand. She had managed to avoid a couple of tragedies that could have damaged her in childhood, but the upcoming catastrophe was written the same in both places. “Perhaps you will avoid the accident because you have the knowledge I have given you today.” I held both her hands and looked into her eyes. I had given her what I thought she needed, but she wanted more. She regarded me trustingly but warily. I let go of her hands and picked up my pad.
“Here, I can copy this chart for you, along with the various interpretations. You should find it baffling reading.”
My audience chuckled appreciatively.
“How much of this do you believe?” Gillian asked, holding her pad to mine to receive the transmission.
“Not a word of it,” I said. “It’s all in good fun.”
“Just for fun?” she echoed. She regarded me from under wrinkled brows. “You don’t take it seriously.”
My own brows were sincerely high upon my forehead.
“No, I don’t. I mean, I take my enthusiasms very seriously, but I don’t believe in the superstitions that I am studying. They are enjoyable to examine, but I would go mad if I had to obey the rules involved in every discipline. Most of them contradict one another ridiculously.”
“Uh, well, thank you,” she said, hastily vacating the stool.
“It has been my pleasure.”
The backless chair was not empty for more than a moment. Allen plopped down upon it.
“My turn,” he said.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “It’s really fairly standardized. You could read the same in a number of texts.”
Allen cocked his head. “No, I think you’ve got something.”
I opened my eyes wide. “Good heavens! I hope it’s not catching!”
“Then you’ll do it?”
“Why not?” I s
aid, cheerfully. “Let’s see what your date and circumstances of birth have destined for you.”
“Then me,” said Veltov. “If you can tell fates nonhuman.”
“I have been reading up on Uctu scale-fortunes,” I said. “I would be delighted to have a chance to practice it on a living subject. I have found that it is a bit like a cross between graphology and phrenology.”
“Yes! Most interested.”
“Can you do a scale reading on me?” Allen asked.
“Well, no,” I said. “Since your scales, like mine, are microscopic. But I will attempt to read the bumps on your head. Phrenology is an amusing form of divination.”
“That’s good,” Allen said. “My girlfriend says I have a lumpy head. I bet you get a lot of information from me.”
Once I agreed to read for those two, others chimed in that they wanted a turn as well. The remainder of the rest period whisked by. I went to bed feeling pleased with myself.
“I told some people about you telling my fortune,” Allen admitted sheepishly, as we began our next shift together in the garden. He kept his eyes down on the aloe plants on which we were working. Our task was to slice some of the thick leaves from the parent plant, both to make room for future growth and to extract the clear juice for a multiplicity of purposes, culinary, cosmetic and medical.
“I see,” I said, carefully keeping my eyes on my work. The clear sap dripped down over my fingertips. I rubbed them together and felt a faint tingling. “That reading was personal, you know. For your own amusement.”
He glanced up, surprised. “Well, all the others were listening. I thought it would be all right.”
“It was your choice to have them listen. As you saw, Veltov wanted privacy when I revealed the interpretation of his scale pattern.”
“Uh, I suppose so,” he said, then blundered forward, as a true Guardian would. “Anyway, they all want to have their stars read. I mean, they’d really like it. If you have the time. You said you were interested in learning more about astrology and all those other things. Would you read for them?”
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