–

– 91 –

Just as Derringer was starting to think about reaching the outer boundaries of more populated space, he turned to go back the way he came. He had plenty of resources for more cruising, and felt whimsical after passing those last two nice ships. Wild card play – he didn’t feel like seeing anyone else, yet.

It didn’t seem like long again before approaching the sidespace where he’d seen the Bluebird Mark 7. And it was actually still there. Except that… oh no! Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Derringer looked closer at the new sidespace capture pic, where something looked wrong with the ship. It had suffered a combustion beneath on one side. But, it had already been parked there when he passed it. That kind of propulsion combustion happened when a ship was moving, not peacefully resting in place. Startup blowups didn’t tend to look that bad. If he hadn’t already seen it there in perfect shape as he was going the other direction, he would think it had been towed and abandoned. So, in the time between his crossings, they’d left, blown up, towed and abandoned? Hmmm.

He liked that ship. He was also in the business of people at each other’s throats, and he knew this was something that could be done by someone with ill intent. Oooh, right away it made him mad, because he liked that ship! And now look at it. No… look at it. Really look at it.

Derringer opened up some advanced analytics, which he’d made sure were onboard. There was also a laser pointer so good, it was illegal to have unless onboard a top-class government vehicle. So now he had one, legally. He employed it to a track-nearest and record program, with very small physical parameters, to track objects for a full second in the vicinity of the abandoned Bluebird. This very good program particularized the laser to as many simultaneous readings as possible, because simultaneity would give Derringer the truest reading.

There was always flotsam in space, trailing from one point to the next in the wake of moving objects. A well-taught program could highlight these motions, and finally the heuristic touch of an astute observer could yield directions of recent motion in a relatively uncluttered field. Many patterns of motion in a given space remained simple in a one-second span, though creating the full-second reading took longer than a second. More like five minutes for a really good one, once set to run. That could be five valuable minutes, but when that’s all he’s got to go on, it’ll have to happen.

Why did he immediately want to figure this one out? He examined his motivations while the video was building. This was the first trouble he’d run into in a while that was weird enough for him to notice. He was looking for trouble, special trouble. By now, he was a little hungry for it. He could depart from bored distraction and pursue a petty vendetta against a hypothetical someone who would harm his newly beloved someone else’s ship. If it were an innocuous event, he would encounter an innocuous resolution. If things got too interesting, he could uninvolve himself. Unless it did involve him, in which case, he should be there.

Derringer patched all the laser readings into the same one-second frame, and watched carefully. There was the trail, like a tunnel through spreading particles. That one looked like a chicken bone, which made him think of getting hungry. The trail went at a tangent to the path of the Brave Crossing. He’d follow it a little way and see if he could ascertain their navigation anchors. He was amazing at keeping his bearings, and he’d better be; Lurin, well, that had been an unusual case.

–

– 92 –

Material gain reports of unusual interest had been the informative basis for the Vanguard’s presence at this nodal structure. Plexus Corporation had reported findings of untraceable materials of unusual but simple and innocuous assembly. These were marked down as material intake, a common occurrence distinguishable by its makeup. It had caught the notice of one especially inquisitive Vanguard agent with an assignment.

Agent Weathers had been theorizing, and placing himself in the path of his theories. This one had to do with exploring possible avenues of collusion. If the Princess was alive, and still hidden, she may have someone hiding her with or without cooperation. Remaining hidden for this long meant expertly avoiding the gaze of innocent eyes. Among the best at that were corporations, including and especially the large ones with their labyrinths of departments, high acumen and familiarity with transport, and deep resource pools. Yesterday, Vanguard John Weathers scanned a few different kinds of corporate-government reports. He decided to take advantage of this timely location alert, which followed an untraceable materials lump that included Zerite. A suspect, a question, and a clue; indications of powerful players.

His ship was in correlative drift with this giant party decoration – some wide spacefoam ribbon held in an irregular shape, attached to what looked like a copier. Unlikely spot for an art installation. Doesn’t work like any known equipment, could easily be discarded research in this removed area. Corporations sniping each others’ secrets was nothing new, and they were happy to report their gains to reinforce their winning reputations. Delving into their mysteries was for the few, the brave. Agent Weathers was just dipping his toe in at this particular point, with his own aims in mind. He’d rest and formulate here until the next action took precedence.

–

– 93 –

“With what we have on board, we can manage a linkthrough at one of the remaining polygons, and that’s where we’re going. This is one of the last few, and our only option without having to dawdle about with sensitive cargo. Let’s look ahead to these coordinates.” Sturlusson fed them in, and his pilot Trosper interfaced them to the ship’s advanced viewers. An unexpected sight met them on the display.

Sturlusson cursed quietly and left the chamber. He returned leading the Princess to the cockpit ahead of him. “Can you identify that ship?” he asked, pointing. A very beefy vessel was floating next to a bizarre space object.

After Trosper obliged her better views of a few identifying areas, Princess Soleil replied, “It’s an official Vanguard vehicle.”

“Yes, it is,” Raev Sturlusson replied. “Anything more specific?” She shook her head no. His expression turned dark, yet he chuckled a bit through his glower. “Really, this is exactly what they should be doing.”

“Were you expecting this, Raev?”

“No, Verne – despite my eminent capabilities, I am not up to the minute on every corner of the universe. But in this case, we’ve caught up to the cutting edge of news; in fact, we’re making the next headline. I’m used to this. Aren’t you?” The last he directed to the Princess, still studying the data.

Soleil turned to face him directly. “Yes, but not as often in such a manner.” She again felt that the benefit of her position within the opposition would amount to little if interrupted at this point. Though she admired the valiance of the Vanguard, she did not wish them this situational victory.

“Well, it’s like this much of the time in my world. Then again, we give them every reason. They’ve got every reason right now. Secure everyone in the back,” said Sturlusson, dismissing Princess Soleil. “Verne, choose your path of approach.”

Derringer had been hustling along a clear (to him) trail, observing their speed as being inconspicuously reasonable. That was something he could keep up with, even catch up with a little. He stayed on target with light-intensity mini-readings, until he noticed a sudden tack that looked responsive. Gauging from experience, his prey was near an objective, and from the angle of the tack from the initial path, he guessed how near and in what direction. He took an opposite tack to complete a pincer movement. Chasing people down was a lot like cooperating with them. Thinking of it that way, he was actually quite the team player.

The view resolved, and Derringer moved up to a standoff. A government vehicle nicer than his was flashing a Stop-and-Search at a ship nicer than the government vehicle. There was no road here; nothing except for the giant dreamcatcher twice the size of its government neighbor.

This was a strange tableau. Anyone who could add would know that it didn’t add up. He was right on time to catch these two buckaroos twitching at each other, whoever they were. Things seemed on the verge of confrontational, and what but he should be right here, as though he were supposed to be.

The private investigator (did a secret government employer make him a detective?) ran another math problem. The fact that he’s been gambling on trouble, plus observing a fake wreck, plus tracking someone to a random point, plus this fast and expensive sport ship, plus a highly-equipped official, plus having powerful silent protection, plus having some of the best gear he’s ever been allowed to carry, plus that weird strategy-sized thingy… He absolutely simply had to get involved. Even if he didn’t have all the details.

If the Princess were on the government vehicle, his contract would already be over. So he knew which side to take, in case there was a Princess in the other one. A half-moment gear-up, and he dove in to grab the attention of the… was that a Vanguard?

“Is he one of ours? Yours?” Verne Trosper asked his friend of many years about the new arrival.

“You know, I’m not sure. I’m not in charge of everything,” replied Sturlusson, expressing an edge of exasperated humility.

Trosper nodded coolly. “Then let’s brunch first.” With rapid-stage multi-hold aiming, Trosper’s foil-beam salvo ended successfully as soon as it started. “Invitation sent. Accepted!” Vanguard totaled, peppy observer hobbled.

“Let’s pick them up,” said Raev Sturlusson, examining their new friend. “Hey, that ship’s government too, isn’t it.”

“It is, isn’t it. They weren’t acting like buddies.”

“I don’t think they are.” After a clearly understandable adoption procedure, Derringer stood inside of Trosper’s ship facing Sturlusson, who commented. “You’re an interesting person to have that kind of ship.”

“I’m a really interesting guy.” Soleil heard this as she appeared in the hatchway to the compartment where the greeting was happening, compelled to assess this transition herself. Derringer’s eyes caught her presence immediately. “Who’s looking for a really interesting gal.”

–

– 94.1 –

“Thanks for the toilets,” said the indistinguishable Vedani to the delivery humans: Arriba and Vadr, old combat partners. They’d survived a lethal situation to find themselves in automatic employ, but as ex-military, that was not out of the question. They knew how to go along to get along. “Are either of you plumbers?” asked their guard. They returned silence after looking at each other. “No, then.”

They were joined by another Vedani, taller-than-tall, and more masculine. “Socializing will begin soon,” he said in very passable Imperial interlingua. “You can join us. It will be beneficial.” The invitation seemed voluntary, but there was little other option, and an invitation was better treatment than confinement. Arriba and Vadr accepted with a gracious murmur, seemingly abashed not to be speaking the other language in turn.

They were led into a small room furnished with small, curvy mountains. They were given a gesture to be at ease. They settled together on a couch-like plateau, with a dramatically reclined slope that put them in a strangely casual posture. They accepted it.

The room was quiet yet, but the light had ambience. A tray setup was brought in with what were possibly snacks; the two were figuring this situation out little by little. It didn’t seem menacing, nor the snacks. Random craned her neck to observe powders in different hues of green. Mmmmm!

After enough time to want to doze, more humans came in, led by the two familiar Vedani. The room felt temporarily more comfortable. They knew two and recognized one. “Oh wow,” Random couldn’t help saying when she noted the Princess. Toledo caught Random’s eye contact and quietly acted as normal as possible.

For the first time, Princess Soleil observed a human speaking Vedani, or approximating it. Raev’s Sturlusson’s pronunciation made the linguistic properties seem more identifiable. It was semi-syllabic, semi-tonal, and partially gestural; quick and chopped, spread across fine frequencies. Throughout a detailed conversation, it was clear where Raev’s speech did not completely match theirs, but remained effective, certainly with greater facility than any human present. A third Vedani joined them in conversation, showing up and rolling forth as though he’d already been part of it. They all appeared particularly congenial upon this occasion, voices riding together with anticipation.

Another came in, wheeling a keg-like contraption. She positioned it, unfolding the setup and laying out hand tools of artistic fashion. One conversant left, another went to recline on one of the curvy hills, and the last finished speaking with Raev before exiting. The newly-arrived humans stuck together. Aside from the Princess, there was a shifty-looking man, one tough lady, and a boy.

Raev went over to Random and Toledo. “Perhaps you’d like to join us,” he said, using his one left hand to show them the way to the other group. The pair were going to roll with accepting invitations. Interaction was a little awkward, as there were clearly a variety of tensions at play in this party setting. They didn’t bother with friendly introductions, just visual acknowledgment.

More Vedani people began to arrive in small numbers. Random observed as some approached the snack bar, spooning their choice of ingredients into palm bowls and then bringing them to the person at the keg contraption. After a short dialogue of choices, she put the bowl into the contraption. It came out transformed into something liquidy and ostensibly appetizing to specifications. The hand tools, which glowed, were selectively applied to the mixture with unique stirring motions.

They sipped and mingled. Random checked to see who else among the humans might be curious enough to try this. Raev caught her eye, recognizing the inquisitive spark. He stood and made another gentlemanly invitation, and they traveled over together. “None of the ingredients will hurt you. They have different flavors, and are more or less food.”

Random began to mix an arbitrary palette, and decided to broach a topic casually. “So… I’ve heard that you’re evil.”

“So have I.” Raev was making his culinary choices with a little more knowledge.

“You let us live.”

“You didn’t have to die. I don’t kill people just to kill people. That,” he paused after this emphasis, “would be crazy.” They completed their choices and brought their cute little bowls to the Vedani bartender.

When it came to the dialogue of choices, Arriba said, “Tell her she can make mine ‘classic’.” It returned to her warm and aromatic. Her gaze was drawn to a platter of something familiar-looking. “Are those cucumber sandwiches?”

Raev looked a little closer. “Approximately, yes.”

“They eat that too?”

“Vedani actually can eat most human foods, though for them it’s sub-optimal. It’s become a trend to experiment with human-style cuisine, and they get curious about trying it on actual humans. They’ve been learning about us for a while already, so they make some achievements.” Random picked up a couple in her hand, noting the similar-but-different texture of the bread. She went back to where she’d been sitting and handed one to Toledo, who inspected, bit, and nodded.

Wendel Harper, possibly the most upset to be captive, gave Sturlusson a dead stare as he sipped his green drink with them. “What’s going on here?” she asked succinctly.

Plainly, he replied, “We’re going to receive a Sea Voice transmission. It’s a special occasion, and we are fortunate enough in our timing to be included. I myself have never before been in attendance, and I’ve known them longer than most. I was a child when my father first introduced me to a Vedani person, a little more than thirty years ago.” He let that sink in.

“Then that was not long before Hirylien suffered the Affliction,” stated Soleil, her voice sounding louder than she intended.

“Princess, you are correct.” With a long sip, he drained his bowl and went to join a group of Vedani in conversation.

Random Arriba also finished her bowl. “If anybody’s hungry, this doesn’t hurt. I’m going for seconds and I’ll show you how to do it if you want to go with me.” She stood half-expectantly. “Plus, sandwiches.”

“I’ll try it,” said Soleil, getting up.

“Sandwiches,” said Toller. Wendel remained unmoved, and Trosper remained unruffled.

Soleil had just handed her bowl of ingredients to the woman at the mixer when she heard a young, accented voice behind her say, “Potato… potato…”

Wonderingly, she lifted a fist, replying as she turned, “Potato…” Calmly they walked their fists across the room to each other, the Scion Princess of the Pan-Galactic Imperium and a Vedani lass. Standing face to face, they bumped their knuckles and then spread their fingers apart, wiggling them as they withdrew their hands in the air. “…Fries!” they said in unison.

“Krinkle Kut,” said the girl. The rest of the pack of youngsters waved their arms at her from the doorway.

“What are you doing here?”

“We were invited. Our scapework had been garnering enough attention that we’ve recently been able to speak with the Voice of Authority – which can come from anybody, but only if they’ve earned it.” She appeared as though she’d never had to explain this to anyone. “It happens when someone has achieved the genuine authority of knowledge, and factors and cords in the aetherscape support the voice of the person or people who have the authority. We can hear it. People become interested in what is said and done with voices of authority.” The youths stood proudly. “Some of what we did with you is part of it. Listening to the live performance of a Sea Voice is an honor for people advancing the edges of innovation. But, what are you doing here? You disappeared.”

“I’m back because your associates, Sturlusson and Trosper, happened to find me and my friends and take us with them. After they disabled our ship.” The Vedani girl looked over at the clump of humans, who were all watching them and listening.

Returning their attention, Trosper lifted his arm and pointed at Wendel. “I was looking for her.”

Wendel let her face sink into her hand. “And I had just decided to help the stranded Princess along to her next destination.” She sounded tired and resigned.

“Okay,” said the speaker of the young group, “I can see that this is a long story… welcome back?” Her friends had approached and were now clustered near the both of them. “Now that we’re meeting in person, how about a formal exchange of names. I’m Yykth.”

“Kate?” There were little sounds on either side of this, but that was the main phoneme landing in Soleil’s ears.

“Sure.”

“And I’m Soleil.” Raev Sturlusson raised his eyebrows at the socially-appropriate lack of honorific. He wondered if she had consciously noted that Vedani do not use them, or if it was an accidentally-fitting diplomatic tact, or if she was setting her title aside out of personal taste.

“So-lay?”

“Yes, just so.” As she looked around, the room was filling up. Two other humans in Hirylienite garb entered with more Vedani, till the remaining reclining spaces had filled. It seemed like time, and it was.

People quieted when Uixtr began to address the room from a central point. “I will speak first of what we are doing to the humans present. What is a Sea Voice? We have known of them for a very long time, yet their true essence is enigmatic. They contact us, and we contact them in return. Only at such times, one will communicate with us at length. This is in a medium we cannot entirely understand, both like words and like music, dissimilar from our own and still never quite translated… in a manner of perspective.

“What we have learned through this occasional relationship is that after we have listened to a Sea Voice, which occurs only fleetingly, we achieve advances, innovation, and excellence that we had not before. We also, quite simply, find the sound of the Sea Voice to be very beautiful, though it is not hard to appreciate something so beneficial.

“There will also be a light show, by us. The Sea Voice often responds to this, and we believe it is somehow also transmitted via the open channel we create together. We call it a Sea Voice because our research tells us the audial waveform carries disturbances typical of transmission through large amounts of water. Theoretical testing continues to confirm this supposition. Please tell us what you thought of the transmission during the discussion to follow.”

The host of the space, Oibhn (‘oven’?) then gave a Vedani speech that sounded more like formal ritual. Some of them raised their bowls at one point, and the lights dimmed to near-darkness.

–

– 94.2 –

A humming sound began, one by one from the people in the room who knew what they were doing. Those Vedani who didn’t yet, listened carefully. After a time, Raev Sturlusson closed his eyes to listen. The collective hum rose and fell in susurrus, until the oscillation rested around a consistent central zone.

Quietly, a wailing overtone introduced itself to the sounds. This didn’t appear to come from anyone in the room. It existed somewhere between recognizable emotions and tones of conversation, thereof encompassing many. It possessed a pulsing rhythm, cadences holding suspense and release.

Light began to respond with diffraction patterns on the curved ceiling, seeking similar visual tones. This had its own language of artistry, such as could be transmitted by people who innately visualize information. The aggregate appearance expanded the dimensions of the ceiling to those of an intimate, small sky. There were counterpoints of transformation between vision and sound.

People relaxed into their parts in this ceremony of communication, and the contoured mountain slope furniture made more sense for this event. Eventually, after a long expression, the Sea Voice receded. People dropped out of the supporting hum one by one.

As the light show released the last few artful flickers, four figures formed from them, flickering in the air. They were surprising, yet familiar; and they were cheering. Oibhn arose to welcome the Kao-Sidhe, giving them a customary compliment on their timing. They chorused appreciation, particularly on the lightwork from which they appeared. The audience began to rise and make social discussion, as mentioned.

The luminous forms of the Kao-Sidhe, as though projected from the light show, were of a humanoid-sociable appearance and size. One of these departed from his companions and glided over to Scion Princess Soleil. Dragon Food made one of his bravo presentations. She nodded and smiled in recognition. He said, “You may be pleased to know that Moonshadow was rescued from the Brave Crossing.”

“I don’t know how you managed it, but I am very glad to hear that, yes.” Soleil’s path had taken her into some strange corridors, and she wondered where else she may soon be. There was Derringer over there, watching this encounter from an angle, and Soleil realized she’d lost track of him since before the Sea Voice had begun. It was a large room, but there weren’t that many humans present. They hadn’t discussed any details of his pursuit, but the Princess guessed he had power behind him, and guessed further where it could come from. He wasn’t as ragged and random as he was able to appear.

Dragon Food acknowledged the company of Uixtr, now joining them. Uixtr made a special motion of greeting to the Kao-Sidhe, splaying the fingers of one hand and passing them upwards over one eye. Dragon Food’s form pulsed once with brightness.

–