Wandering Soul

by Steven Anderson

  “Go easy on her. She’s not as calm as she appears.”

  “You’re helping her, I can feel it.”

  “As much as I can. It’s why I need to get back near her soon.” He patted my hand that was on his arm. “I’m not as calm as I appear either.”

  “Dad, at what range can you feel her emotions?”

  He sighed. “It gets a little easier every year. Maybe thirty or forty meters now, depending. About twice the range I have with you. Why? Can you feel Sam already?”

  I nodded, biting my lip.

  “That’s not a bad thing, Dusa. He’s right there talking to your mom.”

  I looked up at Dad, wondering if I should give him something else to worry about.

  The gentle smile he’d been wearing since I’d arrived slipped away. “When did you first feel him tonight?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel him all the time now, at least when I want to. It was strong, even from the Mission. At this range, I feel him whether I want to or not.”

  We had stopped walking and Sam was staring at me from across the room. I gave him a shy wave, wiggling my fingers. I could tell he liked the dress.

  “Are there Tarakana here magnifying the effect?”

  I shook my head. “No, surprisingly enough, there’s none inside the hotel. A few out on the street, but none here.”

  “Unless they’re hiding from you.”

  “Good point. I don’t think so, but it’s possible. Merrimac is usually honest with me because he’s… Well, he’s honest with me.”

  “Let’s not mention this to your mom just yet, OK? She has enough to worry about tonight.”

  “I thought the meetings were over. This is just a celebration, right?”

  He looked at me with a touch of disappointment. “The meetings are for posturing. The real work happens over drinks and dinner.”

  I shivered as the ground under me shifted. Not a dinner party. “I’ll try to be who she wants me to, who she needs me to be.”

  We started walking again. “Just be Mala Dusa. That should get the job done.” Dad took my hand and placed it on Sam’s arm.

  I glanced into Sam’s eyes, smiled, and then focused on Mom. She was examining me, physically and emotionally, inside and out.

  “Well, look at you, daughter of the Warrens.” She tugged on one sleeve, adjusting it. “I would prefer that you back my play and not argue with me over every single damn thing.” She touched my hair, moving it, fluffing it a bit and sighed. “But this isn’t bad. I can work with this.”

  She glanced at a man that was standing near us, then pulled me into a tender hug and whispered in my ear. “This is probably better than what I had planned, actually. Good job, Dusa.”

  I rested my head on her shoulder and closed my eyes.

  “Thank you, Ms. Weldon. That was perfect.”

  I opened one eye watching him leave. “Was that the pose you wanted?” I kept my head on her shoulder, listening to her chuckle.

  “He’s been haunting me and your father all afternoon waiting for you to show up. Maybe now I can get some work done.”

  “So I’m just a prop for you this evening?” I pulled back from her, trying to gauge what she was feeling.

  “I think it might be the other way around. You’re the one they all want to talk to. You’re the one that convinced the Trade Guild and RuComm that the clans were serious about peace and stability. You’re the one they won’t shut up about.”

  I smiled, feeling lost. “I got shot. That demonstrated peace and stability?”

  She sighed and held my face between her hands, pleading. “Mala Dusa, promise me that you will at least glance at the headlines in some news source once a day, OK? I’m not surprised Father Ryczek kept it from you, but I thought Cuza– No, he would have sworn Cuza to silence too.”

  She let go of my head and I wobbled. “What? What’s been happening?”

  “Flowers,” she answered. “And candles. People marching together in the streets singing. Even citizens have been joining in. It’s damn weird, but it’s good.”

  “Oh. It’s probably–”

  “Here. You look like you need this.” Winona handed me a glass of wine before I could make Mom mad by telling her what I thought was causing everyone to feel so loving toward each other.

  “Can I have this? I thought I was too young.”

  “Sixteen,” Winn reminded me. “Bodens Gate treats you as an adult at sixteen.” She smiled and I wondered how many glasses she’d already had. “That’s sixteen Bodens Gate years, of course, but you’ll be seventeen in about six more weeks, Earth weeks, so… you’re good!”

  I tried a sip. “Not bad.” I swirled it in the glass. “What is it?”

  “Pinot Noir, I think. Boden’s personal family label.” She smiled an evil Winona grin at me.

  The red liquid in my glass suddenly reminded of blood. “Really?” I took another sip and noticed Sam staring, probably reading the darkness in me. “I might need a bigger glass.”

  Dad took my hand, I know reading the darkness in me. “There’s some people we’d like you to meet. And I’d suggest you go easy on the alcohol this evening. Just because it’s legal doesn’t mean it’s wise.”

  “Yes, sir.” I winked at Winona and tapped my glass, thanking her.

  Watching Mom working her way through the crowd was incredible. And it was work, there was no doubt about that. I stayed with her for the first hour, letting people shake my hand or hug me, but it was Mom doing the heavy lifting. She was focused on the representatives from the Council of Clans and from the CG, making introductions, answering questions and laughing at stories that weren’t funny, eyes sparkling. Dad was there with her, supporting her, encouraging her and catching anyone that tried get away. There was one woman from the CG, a delegate from Heusden I think, that would have happily followed him for a more private conversation. He somehow managed to get her hands off his leg long enough to introduce her to a leader of the Boucher clan, mentioning the clan’s desire to open a new factory making high speed injectors for food printers. He slipped away once negotiations were started, with a grin in my direction.

  “Your dad,” Winona handed me another glass, “is remarkable.” She smiled at me and Sam, then giggled.

  “No more wine for Winona,” I told her, taking her glass away from her.

  “My job here is to provide Ms. Weldon and your father with facts, figures and analysis. My ability to do so is unimpaired.” She took her glass back and stared into it.

  “Right. We need food.” I led us over to where Dad was busy talking to a Trade Guild officer.

  “Hungry,” I told him.

  Dad ignored me. “Ah, Ms. Killdeer. How deeply penetrated are residents of the Warrens into space dock operations?”

  “They account for nearly eighty percent for the unskilled and semi-skilled taskings, but only eighteen percent for skilled positions. Just one Warrens based firm has been certified to provide starship servicing and they have been required by Central Government edict to maintain rate parity with existing service providers. Otherwise, their rates would be substantially less. Six firms in the Warrens have attempted to gain certification, but have been denied, often for patently fabricated or arbitrary reasons.”

  Winn glanced at me, smirking.

  The Trade Guild officer was staring at her. “How much less? How much is ‘substantially’?”

  “It is difficult to be precise, and of course it would depend on what services are needed, but if the market were truly open and competitive… I think you could conservatively expect a drop in full service fees of between twelve and eighteen percent, not counting the cost of fuel.”

  The officer did his best to hide his glee.

  “Hungry,” I said again.

  Dad sighed. “Mala Dusa, there are tables full of food everywhere. If
you’re hungry, take Sam and go eat, but I need Winona a bit longer. Look,” He pointed at a big man with a grey beard sitting at a table with a group in RuComm uniforms. “That’s Captain Cradock from the Galla Lupanio talking to some RuComm folks that you and Sam should meet. Get some food, introduce yourself and tell them about the Warrens.”

  “OK, just don’t let that man kidnap Winona.” I glanced at the officer whispering in Winn’s ear. “I think that’s love in his eyes.”

  “It’s love alright, but not for Winona. I’ll take good care of her.”

  Sam took my hand as we walked across the room. “You’re afraid.”

  “Poor social skills. I’m not good at meeting new people.”

  “Says the girl who stood up and talked to thousands of strangers for almost an hour.”

  “And hated every minute of it. Especially the getting shot part.” The group Dad had told us to talk to was watching us approach. “Why do I feel like I’m about to get shot again?”

  “You’re not. Do you want me to distract them while you get something to eat or do you want to lead the attack?”

  I had my shoulders back and my head up. “I am the Princess Mala Dusa. I always...” I looked at him, smiling, and stopped. I knew what he was feeling and desiring and it was overpoweringly dangerous, because I was suddenly feeling and desiring the same thing. I had to take a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “I’ll lead the attack, and I’ll do everything Mom and Dad expect of me, then you and I need to get out of here.”

  He nodded. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

  “Something simple,” I told him. “Something I can eat with my fingers.”

  All of them stood when I approached their table. “Captain Cradock?” I held my hand out. “I am Mala Dusa Holloman. My father tells me that you are captain of the Galla Lupanio.”

  He took my hand gently, but his eyes were looking at me hard. Do all captains have eyes like that, that seem to be able to see straight through to your soul? It was comforting knowing that he had no idea what I was feeling.

  “I have that honor. And I am very pleased that you, your parents and your friend will be joining us on Tuesday for your journey home.”

  That was news to me, but I think I hid it well. I smiled as he introduced me to the other captains at the table; two men, one woman, all with the same eyes.

  We talked about the Warrens and the people that lived there, and I tried to dispel the myths, misconceptions and prejudices that they had been raised on, while Sam brought me an endless supply of crunchy little bites of dough full of cheese and spicy meat. They were addictive. I think the only thing I convinced them of, other than my appetite, was that they couldn’t trust the opinions and reports from the CG.

  “Go there,” I insisted. “Spend a few days, or even a few hours talking to the people, learning what they want out of life. It’s the same things you want: opportunity and the freedom to pursue it, to make a peaceful life for their families, and a better life for their children. Ground truth, my friend calls it.”

  I was quiet for a while after that, enjoying Sam sitting next to me, wondering how to make a polite exit. Then the conversation shifted when Captain Cradock mentioned that the engines on the Galla Lupanio had recently been updated and that he was looking forward to testing them now that the DSH network was visible again.

  For the next hour we talked starship design while I ate and drank another glass of Boden’s wine. The Galla Lupanio was an older Doge-class ship, but had been continually upgraded in ways that RuComm never seemed to be able to afford. I ran out of food at some point because Sam had left me, but it was still another twenty minutes before I could pull myself away to go find him.

  He was in the bar, drinking a beer and flirting with a woman that was at least five years older than him. Well, she was flirting with him, that much I could see. Sam was feeling interested, but in a strangely detached way.

  I stood between them and kissed him on the mouth, doing things that should have left him with little doubt about my intentions. A quick glance over my shoulder showed that, yeah, she was definitely too old for my Sam. I think she recognized me because she looked a little frightened. Good.

  I ignored her. “I got three more letters of recommendation. Can we get out of here now?”

  “Sure. Did you let your parents know?”

  “I’ll let Dad know while we’re en route. I don’t dare get within twenty meters of him or Mom. They’ll lock me up.” We left without saying goodbye to his new friend.

  “En route where? I have a very nice room upstairs that I’d like to show you.”

  “I’ll bet you do. We’re going to the Warrens.”

  “MD, it’s almost 2300.”

  “I know. I’ve already sent a note to Cuza to pick us up at the border.”

  “We’re spending the night at the Mission? My last night here. Our last night together for a very, very long time.”

  “Yes. Trust me. I have a plan.”

  We walked out into the snow. “On Dulcinea,” I told him while we waited for the autocab, “the snowflakes are huge and they float in the low gravity forever. Here, it’s like little snow pellets that are angry at the ground. They smash into it and try to cover it up as quickly as possible.” I giggled and tipped my head back to catch some of them in my mouth.

  “How much wine did you have tonight?”

  “Just the right amount, I think. So, who was she?”

  “Sarah. She’s an aide to one of the CG delegates. You wouldn’t like her.”

  “Well, that’s pretty much a given.”

  “She was at your rally when you got shot and she marched with a candle in her hand last night, praying for peace in the Warrens, but she’s like Trilby. She believes the people in the Warrens are to be pitied and helped with generous charity and sympathy. Maybe someday…”

  Sam stopped and kissed me. It was a good kiss.

  “Someday?” I managed to ask.

  “This is a long fight.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t know how she’s going to be able to just pack up and leave with you on Tuesday. And then there’s everything else going on in the Union. It’s all one big fight and it’s all falling apart. I don’t see how we can win it.”

  I kissed him, trying to do for him what he had done to me. “I know, but we won this round. Tonight, maybe just for tonight, we can celebrate.”

  CHAPTER 20

  MERRIMAC IS MY FRIEND

  Sam and Cuza were standing in the mud and broken stone parking area outside the Gabriele Restaurant staring at each other. Sam wasn’t backing down.

  “Cuza! Is something wrong?” I had to shout the question over the low frequency shaking coming from the Gabriele. It might have been music, but it was mostly just a beat pounding against everything. Little bits of stone were spalling off the concrete block walls.

  Cuza started to turn toward me, then changed his mind and grabbed Sam’s right hand with his. “You gonna take proper care of her?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “No takin’ advantage? No treatin’ her bad?”

  “I would never do that to her.”

  “You’ll treat her like she was your very own sister?”

  “No, sir. I will treat her like the woman I love.”

  Cuza sighed, unhappy, and I prayed that he wasn’t breaking Sam’s hand. I had plans for those fingers.

  “You make her cry… No, I don’t suppose you will. You know how to use that sword you’re toting around?”

  “Yes, sir. And I won’t hesitate if the time comes to use it.”

  Cuza let go and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “OK, you two. Let’s go for a ride. There’s coats in the back seat.”

  I wrapped a long wool coat around me, turning up the collar. It smelled like real wool, and I wondered briefly if there were sheep
on Bodens Gate. A Winona question for some other day. I pulled a wool hat down low on my forehead, tucked all my hair in, and smiled at Sam. Yeah, just the response I’d hoped for.

  “Cuza, will you teach me to drive sometime, please? This looks fun.”

  “I don’t know about fun, but sure. Your dad picked it up pretty quick, I’m sure you will too.”

  I smiled to myself, rocking back and forth as we navigated the rough street, one shoulder bumping against Cuza’s, the other resting against Sam.

  After a few minutes, Sam looked over at me. “This isn’t the way to the Mission.”

  I tried to stifle a giggle.

  Cuza shook his head at me, a wry grin flexing the dragon’s wings. “Girls and their secrets.”

  Sam wanted to ask me where we were going, I could feel it. I just kept smiling to myself with my eyes straight ahead until we pulled over to a stop.

  “I need to let you off here. Too hard to turn this thing around once the road narrows and with all these people out on the street.”

  I got out and he hugged me.

  “You be gentle with him, Little Soul.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And don’t tell your mom I did this.”

  “What about Father Ryczek?” I teased him.

  “Oh, that’d be OK. He’s used to me doin’ stupid things and he won’t kill me.”

  Sam and I helped him get turned around and then followed the crowd moving along the street.

  He took my hand. “OK, where are all of us going?”

  “You should look at the news feeds once in a while. Didn’t you know there’s a big rally in the market at midnight? Live music and dancing, flowers and candles. I want to see it.”

  “You’re not, uh, planning on getting up on that plinth again, are you?”

  I started to giggle and then the horror of it hit me. “God, no. I’m in disguise and plan to stay that way.” I took my hand and put it into the pocket of his coat. “We’ll only stay a little while. After that, phase two of my plan.”

  “Humm. How many phases are there?”

  “You’ll see.”