Andromeda Day and the Black Hole (5 page)

In front of the large town building, for
the first time Andi saw more living Ruvalians, all of whom carried weapons, and
all of whose skin had the same, distinctive green glow. Their shoulder-length
hair varied in shade from light apple to dark river-green. They looked at Deneb
and Andi suspiciously, fingering the triggers of their rifles.

“I don’t like this,” she muttered to him as
the sentry motioned for them to climb the stone steps to the doorway of the
public building.

“Relax,” he murmured, “we’ll be fine.”

Andi crossed her fingers behind her back. For
some reason she didn’t share Deneb’s confidence.

Andi and Deneb entered the doors of the
public building at the top of the steps and found themselves in a large square
hall with a high ceiling. Banners depicting ancient shields hung on the wall,
while the huge pillars that held up the ceiling were carved with symbols and
pictures. It looked a solid building, emphasized by the fact that the walls
appeared to have taken remarkably little damage, although there was no glass in
the windows. The large table that stood in the center of the hall soon took
Andi’s attention, however. It was spread with maps and battle plans, and was
surrounded by a dozen or so Ruvalians. Unlike the sentry who had brought them
in, and the men outside, they all wore yellow sashes around their waists. Andi
wondered if it was the Ruvalian equivalent of stripes on their sleeves.

The sentry spoke to the men at the table,
and they all looked over at Deneb and Andi curiously. One of the men spoke
back, and the sentry returned to them and gestured for them to sit on the
chairs to one side, presumably to wait until the men had finished their
discussion.

Deneb spent his time studying the walls and
hangings, presumably imagining them in the display cabinets on the
Antiquarian
,
but Andi sat and listened to the men talking, recording their speech in the
Wordbox from her bag. She listened to the interpreter clip as they spoke,
frowning as the Wordbox struggled to find the right phrase, typing in her own
suggestions and modifying those that it came up with. Within half an hour she
had a basic dictionary and phraseology, and it continued to expand as the men
talked.

Deneb was listening through his own clip as
Andi worked, and soon began to pick up the gist of their speech. “They’re
talking about battle formations,” he said to her. “They’re planning a new
attack on the Hoshaens tomorrow, a last ditch attempt before their front line
gives way.”

“Maybe this isn’t the best time to talk
about trade,” Andi suggested.

“It’s the perfect time. They’ll want to be
rid of us, so hopefully they’ll just give us what we want to make us go away.”

Andi wasn’t so sure, but she nudged him as
the talk at the table stopped, and for the first time one of the Ruvalian
leaders looked over at them. He beckoned the guard to bring them forward, and
Andi felt the rifle prod her shoulder, motioning for her to move.

She and Deneb walked across the hall to the
table. Up close, Andi could study the Ruvalians more carefully. Their skin was
the most beautiful green color, almost iridescent in the sunlight that streamed
through the gaps in the windows. However, they were all incredibly thin and
tired, and many had obviously been wounded. They were dressed in a dark-green-and-brown
camouflage uniform, although as she had noted before, those around the table
sported a yellow sash around their waists. Most of them also wore a thin chain
around their necks on the end of which was a small polished piece of Indigo
Quartz. It was only when one of them spoke to her that she got the biggest
surprise, however—they didn’t have teeth, but instead a strip of creamy-brown
bone ran the length of their jaw in place of the enamel pegs.

“Who are you?” asked the Ruvalian who had
previously ordered them to sit. “What do you want?”

“We are traders,” Andi said, saying the
words that she had discussed with Deneb previously on board the
Sparrowhawk
.
“We come in peace.”

“How do I know that you are not spies for
the Hoshaens?”

“We have some ammunition for you in our
ship, given to us by the Plions.”

The Ruvalian captain looked surprised. “That
is good of you. We are running low on supplies.” He placed the papers he was
looking at on the table and gave them his full attention. “What do you want in
exchange?”

“We are looking for artifacts to take back
to our ship.”

The captain frowned. “We are at war. We
have no time for trade.” He turned away from them back to the battle plans. His
movements and words were final. “You saw the bodies outside. Leave us, while
you still can.”

Deneb stayed where he was. “Please,” he
pleaded. He spoke in broken Ruvalian, putting together the words as best he
could. “We make living from past of others. We only want few for museum.”

The Ruvalian came round the table and
grabbed Deneb by the shoulder. He pushed him roughly to the maps spread out
before them and tapped the displays angrily. “Look! The Hoshaens have pressed
right up to the city walls on the east side. Any moment now they will overrun
us. And you think we have time for trade?”

“It is our… life,” said Deneb stubbornly,
desperately. “Not take long.”

The Ruvalian turned away, but Deneb grabbed
his jacket. “Please! I will do anything for few pieces.”

Andi stared at him in surprise. She had
never heard him plead for artifacts before. Uneasily she thought back to a few
weeks ago, when she had come across him studying pages of the accounts that he
updated every week. He had looked worried, and she had asked him what the
problem was, but he had just smiled and said it was nothing for her to be
concerned about. It didn’t look like that now. What was going on? Perhaps they
weren’t making as much profit as she’d thought.

Deneb looked over at her, and then moved a
few paces away, beckoning the Ruvalian to go with him. Andi stayed where she
was, realizing that he wanted to speak to him alone. She frowned as she watched
her father trying to put his request into words, gesturing a lot with his
hands. The Ruvalian looked over at her several times and asked many questions. Deneb
seemed reluctant to answer, but eventually continued to speak, his back stiff
with what Andi assumed was embarrassment, or pride, or both.

She shifted impatiently as she waited for
the conversation to end, remembering his words on board the
Antiquarian
,
that he didn’t just want to go down to Thoume for the crystal. What were they
talking about—was it only the possible financial problems he was experiencing,
or was it something more important?

Eventually the Ruvalian walked back to her,
with Deneb following behind, looking frustrated. The Ruvalian stared at Andi
for a moment. Then he frowned, gesturing to the small Wordbox that Andi held in
her hand. “What is that?”

“It’s an interpreter. It helps us to
understand what you are saying. I made it.”

“You?” His eyebrows rose.

She flushed under his mocking gaze. “Yes. Why
does that surprise you?”

The captain raised an eyebrow. “Legend
tells us that Earth women are not the most… intelligent of species.” There was
a hint of a sneer behind his words. “Is it true that you are not allowed to
fight on the battlefield?”

Deneb pulled Andi closer to him
defensively. She blushed again at his protective gesture, embarrassed in front
of the confident Ruvalian captain. “Some do. But I doubt that I will ever
fight,” she admitted.

The captain surveyed Andi curiously. “You
are, what? Fourteen, fifteen summers old?”

“Fourteen.”

“If you were on our planet, you would have
been taught to use a rifle, and how to kill an enemy, at eleven.” He looked at
Deneb. “She is not a child—you should not shield her from the realities of
life.”

“She is female,” Deneb said defensively in
his stilted Ruvalian.

The captain lifted his chin. “On our
planet, the women fight alongside the men. They are brave and have obtained
many of our country’s highest honors.”

Deneb stared at the green figure, realization
suddenly dawning. “You are woman!” he declared with his usual subtlety.

Andi added quickly, “He didn’t mean that as
an insult. It is just that you seem so… competent.”

The female Ruvalian captain smiled. “I
understand. I know off-worlders cannot tell the difference between our males
and females.”

Andi looked around the table. Not only were
the Ruvalians dressed alike—their faces were all hairless, their bodies slim
and straight, with no hints of womanly curves. She could not tell which of them
were men and which were women. “Why don’t you distinguish between yourselves?”
she asked curiously, adding hastily, “I don’t mean that as an insult.”

The captain nodded. “During times of peace
women do sometimes dress differently to men. But now we are at war. It makes no
difference whether we are male and female. None of us wants his or her land to
fall to the Hoshaens. We all fight.”

Andi nodded back. She felt a strange
admiration for the confident and courageous captain.

The captain sighed. She seemed to have come
to terms with the fact that the two travelers were not a threat. “My name is
Clios,” she said.

“I am Andi, and this is my father, Deneb.”

Clios nodded her head. She looked over her
shoulder at the battle plans. “You can see that we are in much trouble. The
Hoshaens press against our walls like a disease threatening to break out. They
will soon overrun us.” Her eyes narrowed. “Sphere will stop at nothing to set
foot inside this Hall.”

Deneb frowned. “Sphere?”

“He is a general in the Hoshaen army.”

Andi was shocked at the hate that glowed
suddenly in Clios’s eyes. She sensed a deeper emotion behind Clios’s words than
mere despise for an enemy. “What did he do to you?” she asked gently.

Clios turned a surprised gaze on her, and
then smiled ruefully. “You have sharp eyes. Yes, we do have a history. Sphere
was in charge of the raiding party on my home village, eight summers ago. He
killed everyone in the village—everyone but me.” The deep furrow between her
eyes indicated the emotional pain he had put her through. “I managed to find a
hiding place in a yellowcorn store. I watched him massacre my people through a
crack in the wall. He killed my mother and father before my eyes, and there was
nothing I could do about it.” She bit her lip. The memory was obviously still
painful for her.

“You say he is a general in the army. Is he
well respected?”

“He is greatly feared, even by his own
people, because of his cruelty. But they will never eject him from the army
because of his talent.”

“His talent?” Deneb asked.

“The Indigo Quartz,” Clios explained,
touching the pendant at her throat. “Have you heard of it?”

“Yes, a little. The Plions said that it
increases a person’s mental power.”

“Yes, something like that. Well, Sphere has
the natural ability to read people’s minds. And he wears a large piece of pure
Quartz, which enhances this ability. You see, although in Ruvalian lands the
Quartz runs near the surface and is easily accessible, it is less pure here
than the veins which run deep in Hoshaen territory. Hoshaen crystal is
extremely expensive, but also very powerful. Sphere’s gift is invaluable, for
of course if he interrogates prisoners he can immediately find out what they
know.”

Andi shivered. The thought of this man
probing her mind to find out her deepest secrets and fears made her mouth go
dry. “Can nothing be done?” she asked, feeling desperate for both the captain
and her people.

Clios shrugged. “Most of our people have
given up all hope of ever winning the war. Once the Hoshaens took the Golden
Star, the battle for us was lost.”

“The Golden Star?” Deneb asked.

Clios studied him for a moment. She seemed
to be debating whether to tell them any more. She dropped her eyes, and
shuffled the plans on the table. “It is a religious icon. Our customs stretch
back millennia to the days of our forefathers. The Golden Star was our last
link to our ancestors. It has a Keeper—a woman called Lydia. Lydia was
captured, and the Golden Star with her. I do not think that the Hoshaens are
aware that she was the Keeper as they have not bragged about capturing the
Star. But since her disappearance, our army has lost all heart.”

Andi understood. In the old days of war on
Earth, armies would often fight for the country’s colors, or for the flag, and
losing that symbol often proved devastating for those who fought. “We, too,
have a love of history,” she said. “That’s why we collect artifacts—so that the
history of the people in this Galaxy can be known to all.”

Clios nodded, but showed no signs of
offering them any Ruvalian gifts.

“Where was Lydia taken?” Deneb asked
eventually.

Clios looked at him with her deep green
eyes. “To a prison, deep in Hoshaen lands. My people call it the Black Hole.”

Andi shivered. The nickname implied a dark,
impenetrable place that sucked in everything around it, somewhere from which
you could never escape. “It sounds terrifying.”

“It is a dreadful place, deep in the bowels
of Thoume, where Ruvalian prisoners are forced to mine for Indigo Quartz in the
most horrendous conditions. They say it is like an underground city, a huge
place, stretching for miles. And people who go in there never come out.” The
eyes of the courageous Ruvalian captain were filled with a terrible fear. A
chill ran along Andi’s spine.

Deneb frowned. “If Golden Star returned,”
he said in his faltering Ruvalian, “your army turn back Hoshaens?”