Tag Archives: novel

5x Rerun: Fire Within (1), 14-18

Posted on by under Fire Within, Rerun 1+2, Uncategorized

–

– 14 –

Four of spades. Jack of diamonds. Two men leaned back in identical office chairs, their feet propped up on either end of the institutional metal desk. They took turns tossing cards face up into a hat on the floor between them. The room was small, not much more than a basement supply closet, but it had ambient ceiling light, and the wall com was working fine. The sounds of a traveler string duo piped in, just loud enough to hear.

Three of spades. Six of diamonds. “Think you’re gonna miss the official headquarters?” This from the slender, pale blond wearing sunglasses. He wasn’t tall, nor short, but he did look like he would bruise if you poked him. The sunglasses were mirrored, his eyes not visible.

“Come on.” Ace of diamonds. This man was tall, with a bald head of deep brown skin, solid but not heavy. “Business was terrible. Nobody wanted to hire the guys working out of the old supply closet, no matter how nice they made it in the remodel. No, I won’t be looking back.” Everything that wasn’t furniture or part of the walls was gathered in three boxes, including a pile of com relay displays.

Five of hearts. “Easy for you to say. We’re not moving the office into your apartment.”

Ten of spades. “I can’t afford an apartment.”

Nine of hearts. “You just stay in mine and don’t pay rent.”

Queen of clubs. “I could, but we’re saving up for another office, remember. That’s my savings account,” said the dark man, pointing to his chest.

Ten of clubs. “You mean your ex-wife’s.”

Seven of spades. “I earned that settlement. I didn’t cheat.”

Two of clubs. “You sure did. And you never do.”

Seven of clubs. “Oh what, did you like that one?”

Two of spades. “I like all of ’em, you’re a bastard and I can’t stand the sight of you.”

Ace of clubs. “Can’t stand the sight of myself sometimes, it makes me wonder when I’m gonna get flunked.”

“DeWalt, the sad thing is I think you’re passing with flying colors.”

The radio string music was sliced in half by a screech, and the volume rose as the channels seemed to tune themselves. Both men looked at the wall console.

“I’m on your line, idiots. Did you turn off your ringer?”

They looked at each other. The dark one, DeWalt, made a face. “Sounds like Derringer.”

“I didn’t turn it off,” said wavy blond hair. “Anyway, Derringer. Why are you talking this way. What’s going on.” He threw the three of hearts into the felt brim hat.

“Listen Dremel,” the voice warped, white noise cutting in and out, “I’ve got a pretty big deal in the room here with me, and we need you to show up.” A few strange warbles came through, none of which made sense.

The slender blond leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “Last day on this line, bud. You’re lucky you found us here.”

“No, I’m not,” the incoming voice whistled, “you have absolutely no where else to be. Sending the address.” The five working com relays in the box lit up, showing a new message stored.

Dremel sat up, taking his shoes off the desk. “Is that you doing that? Have you learned some new tricks? I didn’t think it possible.”

“Not me. The people I’m working with -” He was cut off by a twenty second drum solo. With a couple sonic slashes, the system reconnected to a pop channel that made both men wince.

“Okay then.” The pale blond Dremel stood, smoothing back his hair with one hand, while adjusting his tie with the other. He bent down and picked up the hat, emptying the cards out onto the floor.

Section 14

–

– 15 –

The oncoming sunrise and still-visible moonset balanced each other on opposing edges of the horizon. The grassy slope on one side of the little airlot was just beginning to brighten. Two old friends crossed it towards each other.

Walking part of the way, the wiry, medium-height man crossed his arms, smiling. He angled his chin toward the healthy, muscled blonde throwing her arms open. “Gretz Manoukian, what brings you to Southerpart?” She gave him a tight squeeze and a pat on the back, which he endured with a stoic grin.

“Eyyy, same as you. Unloading government stock.” They stood a few feet apart, facing the changing sky. The breeze smelled of evaporating moisture, and color rose softly.

“How long you staying down here on Genoe?”

“Hey, until I feel restless. I’m paid. You?”

“Yup, I saw the credits hit the account, but I’ll keep moving on. Treat you to breakfast roast? Heard they’re grilling wild runner hens out behind the saloon.”

He turned to face her with a stretchy grin. “If that’s so, you just made my day.” They crossed the airlot together.

Wendel Harper called out as they approached the grillmaster. “Jay, it’s you doing these birds? Is that gunpowder again for the seasoning?”

“Yep. It’s been all head shots lately, but sometimes you miss the taste of scattershot in the body.” He set down his grill poker and caught Wendel in a hug. He and Gretz shared a nod.

“I’ll have one and he’ll have one. Gunpowder’s got all the vitamins and minerals we need.” Jay set to finishing two nearly done birds.

Gretz leaned against the wall. “What’s the news in Southerpart?”

“Well, you know about the livestock failure. They think it’s some rare pollen spread happening planetwide. None of the Aquarii wanted to hang around. Maybe they figured they’d be susceptible.” Jay watched the food cook. “Decent business for those of us who can hunt the planet birds and buzzers. Wouldn’t call it easy living, though.”

“Well anyway,” said Wendel, running a hand over her short hair, “these flocks have got a new fancy-tech innoculant. The bio-imm team sounded pretty confident, so let’s hope they know what they’re doing.”

“Yep. Glad you could bring ’em.” Jay picked up two sticks and offered one in each hand to both of them. “Least I can do is make you breakfast. Gratis.” He hissed a drawn-out S through his teeth. An old man and woman rounded the corner arm in arm, clearly following their noses. Jay smiled and turned the other birds on the grill. Wendel and Gretz raised their food in salute and turned to go.

The two sat on the grassy slope, each biting at the small elongated runnerbird on its skewer. Between them, an open infosheet lay on the grass. This paperweight cloth received Wendel Harper’s subscriptions daily, and bundled or crumpled nice and tight in any pocket she happened to stuff it into. She rustled it flat with a hand, and set it to the daily issue that covered the inhabited planets in the Leuko Galaxy.

“Genesee is coping with major geothermal disruptions. Elections this year for the Genoene Council.” She read headlines aloud when they struck her interest. Gretz Manoukian stared into the sky and ate his breakfast. “Princess Soleil is back from her Alisandrian tour. The hunt for Raev Sturlusson continues.” The sun had fully risen, shining directly into their eyes. She shook it by its corner and the sheet went blank. “I think that’s enough news for now.”

Section 15

–

– 16 –

Derringer peered down the sight of the assault rifle into the corner of the room. He butted the stock against his chest to feel the hard spring in it. After working a few of the actions and feeling them click smoothly, he lay the rifle down on the large wooden desktop next to the lady’s pistol. He looked over at the man holding the shotgun.

It was a short-barreled type, with a carved stock in wood. The man holding it was tall, and wore a stern face behind dark spectacles. His short black hair was decidedly unruly. He checked to make sure the chambers were empty before leaning it over to Derringer’s scrutiny.

Derringer turned to inspect, one hand on the desk. The condition of it was unnaturally new for its design; some parts must have been re-machined. “Col, that thing belongs in a museum.”

“That’d be a shame, considering it still does what it was made to do, as well as it’s ever done it.” Col withdrew the shotgun possessively and set it back in its case. He clicked the snap shut and elevated it back to its former place on a high shelf. “One of my daddy’s daddies back down the line was a gunsmith. We keep it in working order.”

“Yeah, and did your great-great-grandpap sell to all sides?”

“Actually, yeah.”

A hallway door opened and shut, footsteps approached. Karma entered the study, going straight to the cabinet to pull out three glasses and a carafe of golden whisky.

Derringer squinted at her. “Did you just change?” She was now wearing a black turtleneck sweater instead of her suit jacket.

“Perceptive of you. Yes, I did.” She poured them each a drink. Derringer looked from her, to where she came from, to Col, and just blinked. When she offered a glass, he took it with a nod.

She handed the other to Col. “That attempt to steal this data was so… rent-a-wreck. I’m slightly insulted by whoever thought it would be that easy.” Col smirked, taking a sip while Karma gestured with her glass. “Who would be so amateur, yet able to risk so much and walk away with nothing?”

Col polished his sunglasses, inspecting them in the light from the window before putting them back on. “Fortuity?”

“No, Irons wouldn’t dream of sending in that sort of skeleton crew. That isn’t her style. If it were her, we would’ve needed the safety net. As it was, your guys never got involved, did they?” Karma tilted her head at Col.

He shook his head. “Didn’t have to. What you saw was it. You took out the thugs and the hover. Hotel and emergency cleaned it up. We just watched.” A smirk curved at the corners of his face.

Derringer finished the last of the whisky, setting the glass down with a loud clack. “You had guys on this?” He pointed at Col.

“I know, when does Col hire anybody.” He shrugged again. “Right timing, good pay for easy service.”

“You’re welcome,” Karma shot in his direction.

“You are also welcome,” deadpanned Col. He finished his glass and left it on the desk next to Derringer’s.

Karma swirled her last sip and drank it down. “When do you think those two will be here?” This she aimed towards Derringer.

“Chad and Fred? Ten, twenty minutes. They pick up easy, and I’m sure they were impressed with your dj skills. But I warned you, they’re only sort of competent.”

“That’s perfectly alright,” she murmured, staring into nothing. She flashed Derringer a self-consciously charming smile and kept her mouth shut. He picked up her gun and handed it to her, holding it by the barrel. She reached toward it, eyebrows raised, and grabbed it. “Are you done looking at that?” It went back in her side holster with a pat.

“One of a kind, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“What do you think of those?” Col asked, pointing at the assault rifle on the desk.

Derringer eyed the rifle from end to end. “The mechanics are smooth, but it feels light. Even flimsy… where are they from?”

“Don’t let the weight fool you. The recoil is like a feather in the wind. I have two shipments and no regrets. Made on Geris.”

“Geris… the crude ore planet?” Col nodded.

Karma was rearranging the vase of flowers on the windowsill. There was still sunlight in the day, and it lit her hair in a flaming halo. Black knee-high boots elevated her a tiny bit above her tiny stature. Derringer wasn’t fooled. “Cobra lilies,” she said, “that’s what this bouquet is missing. Col, where did you get these.” Derringer’s eyebrows lifted at the imperative in her tone.

“The Array. I was shopping there the other day.” Col’s face was inscrutable.

“Well, this florist is okay, but…” Her voice drifted off, one hand on her chin, one on her hip, still facing the vase. Her gaze was aimed out the window. “Cobra lilies.”

“I know where to find those,” Col said from where he stood.

Karma faced them, a closed smile from ear to ear. From behind her the sound of doors opening and shutting. Derringer nodded to the other two and headed to the entrance. “I know that van.”

Section 16

–

– 17 –

A small cohort of kids filed in through the door to the viewstudy, a teacher shepherding from their midst. The room was empty of seating; instead, bright cushions and stuffed animals formed an inviting pile in the center of the floor. The curved window wall was set to transparency, with the view of Capital City as backdrop.

Three remote cameras lifted off a high shelf and began hovering around the room like lazy winged mice. Everyone made themselves comfortable, the teacher on a large cushion at the back of the group. When all eight children had settled, she smiled directly at the camera blinking red.

“Good morning, Rocketeers! We’re so glad you could join us here at the Pan-Galactic Imperial Court on Alisandre.” She radiated eager warmth, her curling golden hair seemingly reflecting it. “Today, Prince Cristobal is going to tell us about the ten federets of the Pan-Galaxy.” The body of another camera turned red as it transmitted a close-up of a young boy of about twelve. He looked like his oldest sister, dark-haired and pale, though his eyes were grey like his father’s. Quiet and self-possessed, he nodded at the camera. “Sir Prince, thank you for sharing. The floor is yours.”

He smiled briefly, rising from where he sat at the edge of the group. He was tall for his age, and the black-with-gold garb that he wore made him look taller. From his pocket he withdrew a data chip, which he inserted into a console by the side of the window wall. The center panel turned a flat white, and he stood in front of it, notecards in hand.

“The Pan-Galactic Imperium is divided into ten parts, or federets.” Behind him, a red circle drew itself against the white backdrop. Lines crisscrossed it to divide the pie into ten pieces, which separated to array themselves around the Prince’s silhouette. “The Imperial planet of Alisandre is separate from these, to better serve as a neutral governing body. This means each federet is equally important.” A red dot appeared above the ten dispersed shapes, encircled by a line of gold.

He was reserved, if not shy; but his voice stayed steady and his diction clear. “Each federet is a common sense group of planets and galaxies. Some were formed when they became part of the Imperium. Others have been regrouped depending on population and transport accessibility.” The diagrams rearranged themselves around him, illustrating the changes he spoke of, each shape taking on its own new color.

As the Prince described each federet, the teacher shifted her gaze from him to the city view on either side of the screen. He’d been her pupil for almost six years now, and he always lit up when the topic came to worlds outside the court, especially the distant edges of the Imperium. His usual reservations would melt away. Even now, he became more animated as he sprinkled the cut-and-dry presentation with some favorite gems.

His oldest sister would rule, but as the first boy and third child of the family, his destiny was very much in his hands. For now, he could only repeat the canonical histories as they were taught to him. As his teacher, she could feel his yearning for original knowledge from outside his sheltered world. She had a feeling he would find it, soon enough.

Section 17

–

– 18 –

“So you want us to figure out who it was went after you at the handoff.” Chad Dremel, wearing both hat and sunglasses, spoke from the loveseat in the front room of Col’s safe house. “Why? It’s not our uh, expertise. You’d know better than we would.”

“That’s just it. I thought I knew all the players who would be after this research, but that attack and the way it was done doesn’t make sense for any of them. Because you know nothing about this scenario, you might be able to figure out something I couldn’t.” Karma Ilacqua leaned against the table. “Besides, their attempt failed, and I don’t have time to go chasing down every Jack and Jill who tries to trip me in the hallway.” Her eyes gleamed. “But I’m curious.”

Dremel turned his head to DeWalt sitting next to him. They read each other’s faces for a few seconds. DeWalt tilted his black pate and looked over at the business woman. “We’ll need an office.”

Smirking, she glanced at the detective before looking back at them. “I’ve got an office you can use.”

Section 18

–

94.4 \ 182

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As they negotiated the transitions of Vedani passageways in this ship connected to different starscapes, Sturlusson addressed Derringer next. “You, I believe, wish to travel with the Princess.”

Pleased that this option was proferred, Derringer replied, “Yes.”

“Good. You shall.” He turned to Captain Harper. “We interrupted your endeavor of aiding the Princess to her next destination. You are allowed to continue doing that, to her intended destination.”

Wendel’s expression was distrustful and confused, not knowing how or why she was of use to that. She again accounted quickly for Toller. “And him, he’s coming with me.”

The lad confirmed. “I’ll go with her.”

Raev nodded at this expectation. “Fine.” They covered more distance until they reached a closed bay door. He stopped them, and pointed to each in turn. “Okay: group.” They all examined each other, and he opened the door.

“My darling, O valiant!” exclaimed Wendel. The Drift 9 was in. Next to it, little Moonshadow blinked its light at them three times, making Soleil smile despite the situation’s gravity. Drift 9 was being repaired where the ship was injured, with some advanced modifications. “What are you doing to it?” the captain asked.

“Vedani engineering has some amazing applications for human technologies, including and especially transportation. The Imperium actually already has a fair amount of integrated Vedani tech, which has been part of the brewing of this conflict. This ship will have some things the Imperium does not.”

“If you’re bringing me to my ship, I’m assuming you’re willing to have me captain it,” said Wendel with an edge that suggested trouble if this were not so, “but how am I to use these modifications? It would take me some time and practice to discover.”

“I will help with that as I accompany you,” said Uixtr Xkcd, appearing from the doorway to join them. The rest of the group quietly regarded this development. Soleil inclined her chin with a complicated respect.

“Rosy Glow and I will continue to lead you along the way, as we were before this fortunate interruption. We’ll be much better prepared.” Becoming visible from behind Uixtr, their large person-sized forms still appeared made of projection light.

“Well, there’s room for everybody,” spoke Wendel, then glancing at the sections being rebuilt and modified, and added, “I think.”

“You can also bring your mount,” elaborated Sturlusson to the Princess, “who is permitted to leave and appears willing to go with the one who most recently named it.” Moonshadow’s front light blinked on five times.

Soleil cleared her throat and asked Wendel, “Room for everybody?” Her outstretched hand indicated Moonshadow as though introducing them for the first time.

Nodding ponderingly and receiving this information with eye contact, Wendel replied, “Everybody, yes.”

Princess Soleil turned to Raev Sturlusson. “Can you tell me the current Imperial Synchrony?”

He faced her directly. “Four-fifths Sigma Nine.” In her head, the Princess reckoned Alisandrian days since she departed from the calendar, counting ahead to the day that fell inside this synchrony. Yes… it was her birthday. She was now of twenty-five Alisandrian years. She decided not to bring any attention to that at this time.

“At the start of the trail,” said Derringer with a pause, to no one in particular, “I looked ahead.”

“I looked ahead,” said Soleil, recognizing a Duo.

“At the start of the trail,” confirmed Derringer, his expression warming. This erudite form of poetry was not known or appreciated by all. It was nice to find someone who would exchange lines. It gave Soleil a small smile as well. She used to exchange Duos with Arkuda. Draig found them annoying, and Mireille let them slip right past.

Despite the immense situation, Wendel chuckled. Duos were one of the maneuvering calls she used with Leiv when they went ship dancing out in the crisp edge. She hoped he was moving in tandem with her, somehow. In the quiet moment following a poem, they all looked ahead.

94.3 \ 182

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Uixtr addressed Soleil in his well-spoken interlingua. “I want to introduce someone, and we’d like to speak with you on a serious matter.” Without Uixtr changing focus, a second Vedani joined them at his side. Dragon Food remained, and looked on with interest. “This is Aelrn.” Ay-lur-en. She was as elongated and slender as Uixtr, a slightly different shade of blue-green.

Aelrn gazed directly into Soleil’s face in the manner that Vedani consider formally polite. “While you were on your excursion, after your training, you met someone, who told you about something that happened. ‘E has since spoken with us.”

“Acamar.” A momentary hush seemed to follow Soleil’s utterance of the name. “Yes.” Looking at the two, she felt on the brink of something she didn’t want to hear.

“This dragon knows the Vedani people through our workings, with er egg from before ‘e hatched.” Acamar’s moment of hatching had been the death of Soleil’s mother, Queen Ascendant Charlotte. Soleil pieced things together as Aelrn continued. “It’s hard to explain to someone who was not a part of it, but you have met Acamar, and we are giving you this knowledge now while you still face us.” This was happening in the midst of many discussions not a part of it, but Soleil knew that these folk all around her were habitually a part of multiple discussions.

“The formation of Acamar’s egg, and the nature of it, became known to us amidst a chain of critical juncture decisions regarding our own growing bad relationship with the Pan-Galactic Imperium. There was a new, yet already true, energy function of spacefield. The stillness which transmits and transforms, a transition so complex yet essential that it is everywhere as itself in a variety as deep as only a living being can possess… that’s one way to describe a dragon, this dragon. And while this description was as yet unembodied, we were one of the forces called to this egg, a part of the universe that told it what it was becoming.”

“We used the egg,” said Uixtr, “in agreement with its nature, and its first eight.” Soleil understood this phrase meant the dragons that nurtured a new dragon into existence via something called an egg.

“In this way, our means accomplished enough that we have moved our plans forward. As have they,” said Aelrn, referring to those first eight. “The Signalman has aligned us well.” Soleil also observed Dragon Food, solidly listening as though none of this was a surprise.

“This is the war,” said the Princess. The war that they had told her was coming. They had contacted her. She was recognizing them, though there were some as yet unknown. The Kao-Sidhe had spoken of friends they wished her to meet, unlike those she knew. Those who could manage war were at home. She was here. “Already, there are losses.”

“Already, there have been. But people agree,” continued Aelrn, “that the hatching event was unsettling. Even though many have been furiously incensed by the Magus regime – and human behavior in general – we do not see ourselves as being tolerant of cooperative egregious mass murder.” Aelrn mastered a struggle. “We have actually been concerned that was more a trait of your kind. This was the way before us that could accomplish everything. If you want to know why, you will have to wait for that explanation. That will take more time.”

Uixtr picked up the thread. “We were a part of Acamar’s formative phase, and now you know we were causative in the Photuris Vortex Slaughter. Only the most necessary mandates of existence, the truest requirements of the universe result in dragons. This was the way it all happened. While the event was strictly military, we’re still not entirely happy about it. You should know that as well. Retaliative anger is expected, and that does not make anything easier.”

Aelrn resumed. “We have not been entirely pleased to know you humans, and not all of us are convinced of your sapience.” A short distance away, Raev Sturlusson was speaking with the host in Vedani language. “But because we believe we are related, we do what we can in order not to simply kill. Though some of our friends would like to, and still may.”

Scion Princess Soleil had seen her grandmother, the Queen, receive unfavorable news with little more disturbance than a cool breeze, and then from the power of her office create inarguable change. The court of an Imperium was no fencer’s brawl, even when it was. The creation and maintenance of a stable reality was mainly a matter of underpinnings, regardless of any dramatic redecoration. Soleil breathed it all in like a scent on the wind, and as she’d seen the Queen do, moved onto a more favorable topic for the moment, briefly closing discussion on the previous. “Would you like to know what I thought of the Sea Voice?” Uixtr and Aelrn adjusted their postures to listen, and Dragon Food remained intent upon their exchange.

“Do you believe in mer people?” Toller asked Yykth and the other two Vedani youngsters speaking with him. Captain Wendel Harper remained at the lad’s side. He explained to their curiosity. “They look like me, or maybe like you, at the top. But instead of legs they have fins, and they live underwater, and they sing. That’s how I think they would sound.” He made finny motions with his hands as he told this. The Vedani youngsters, taller than him but not heavier, made finny motions as well.

Raev watched this exchange among youth from where he spoke with Oibhn Klnr. “I am actually a very good plumber. A talent I gained as an adolescent living in the Hirylien Remainder relocation blocks. I can switch things around – look as good as new – or even the same as before. And you are right, maintenance is not as fun as installation. I can do that here, and train a few to handle your basics. I can use the downtime. I thank you for integrating these human accommodations.”

“It continues to be an interesting learning experiment.”

“While I’m around for a moment, I’d like to have a tattoo adjusted.”

“I can get that started for you. Let me know what you want.”

“Do you have Node Frequency Vibration metal fluid available?”

“Ah – it will have to be the purest grade. Four day procurement.”

“I thank you, again. This time for indulging my own experiments.” Raev opened and dropped his hands, signaling his release of the conversation.

“It is of benefit to us as well. We make use of all learning.” Oibhn opened and dropped his hands as well, the gesture flowing through his long fingers. Raev had a few more discussions on his way around the room as people started to filter out. He kept tabs on individuals, nudging them to stay or regroup.

He came back around to join the group including the captain, the investigator, the Princess, and the boy. “Princess Soleil, Magus. I am informed by your sometime Kao-Sidhe associate, Dragon Food, that you have a quest toward an intended destination. I will not obstruct you in this, and I am giving you the means to accomplish it with sureness, including sufficient company. You four can come with me now.” Raev Sturlusson proceeded them to a nearby open passage.

94.2 \ 182

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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.

94.1 \ 182

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“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.