Voices of Chaos (42 page)

An-Lieye's reaction to that startled both humans--a violent, gestured
no!

"Uhh...I can explain later, Dana," Magdalena said in Mizari. "She has cause." She switched back to Arekkhi. "An-Lieye, apologies, the engineer-Dana did not mean you must wash the robe, that matter and any other matters pertaining to your person are
your
decision. But I... I see why you would keep the blue as it is. I would feel the same."

"Okay, sure." The engineer looked puzzled, but shrugged that aside. "Go get clean, both of you, sleep as long as you need to. We're at least nine hours from the jump station, and it'll take at least two weeks to reach CLS, even with the new jump point I'm going to use, and the enhanced power boosters on this hunk of tin. That's assuming nothing goes wrong, of course."

"Nothing will," Magdalena said firmly. "It just can't. Thanks, Dana. I... after everything that's happened the past few days, I am going to do just exactly what you suggested."

She woke, clean and disoriented, nearly eighteen Earth hours later, her hair still damp and her eyelids sticky. As she sat up and keyed the lights from off to dim, she could see An-Lieye in the bunk across the narrow chamber from hers, a slight figure wrapped in Dana's oversized navy blue shirt, the stained robe clutched in her arms. She seemed to be very deeply asleep.

Magdalena eased from the bunk, stretched hard, then wrote a brief message and left it stuck to the other's pillow. "An-Lieye, we are safe here, and here you and I and Dana are equal. You can go anywhere you like as long as the doors are not sealed. I will return shortly, to show you around the ship."

She found the galley after a short search--the FTL ship assigned to the Arekkhi jump station wasn't that big--and programmed the familiar servo for sweetened orange pekoe tea, steeped five minutes, and two oatmeal raisin cookies. The taste would be off in both cases, but she didn't care; it would be close enough to remind her of cheerful winter breakfasts

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with her mother on the sunny south-facing third-story balcony of their apartment. Before Solomon Smith. As she bit into the second cookie, a faint whooshing noise alerted her to Dana's battery-operated chair. She glanced toward the open doorway, smiled, and drank the last of her tea. "I didn't properly thank you for dropping everything to come to our rescue--" she began.

"If you don't talk fast for all of us, I won't have a job
or
a station," Dana cut in bluntly. "I just got a detailed message from Khyriz, everything that happened, I can't
believe!"
She took a deep breath. "Okay, never mind. Khyriz said he was uploading a separate vid-message for you, it's on the flight-deck-corn, so you can read it in privacy. I need a
long
nap." She turned the chair and was gone before the translator could even open her mouth to say thanks.

Magdalena drained her cup, then programmed another, this time a slightly weaker brew, and carried it with her up the short, narrow hall to the deserted flight deck. She eyed the bewildering array of panels, switches, pads, and buttons, most green-lit to indicate auto-pilot, half a dozen others deep purple for slave-link to an auto.
Slave.
She shuddered. The word would never sound the same again.
But how am I supposed to figure out where the
message is?
No surprise--practical Dana had fixed a red square of paper on the back of her spare chair, a penciled arrow pointing toward a separate, smaller bank of controls. The vid-system was separate from the rest of the panel and similar to the one they'd brought to the old palace, Magdalena realized with relief.

It still took her several anxious moments to get the system up, respond correctly to the series of control-questions that would supposedly keep a terrorist or even an ordinary Arekkhi from accessing such advanced outsider tech, then went momentarily blank when it asked for her password. Finally the screen cleared, and she caught her breath. Khyriz's face was so sooty she couldn't make out his familiar spots, and his whiskers sagged with exhaustion. So utterly different from the vid he'd send her on StarBridge, to urge her here.

"My Magdalena, apologies," he began, and his voice sounded dul --worn, she could only hope, not injured. But he

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anticipated her fears. "The fight early this morning proved harder than even I feared, but I am not harmed, I swear to you, only tired. Perhaps you will think I should have bathed and reclothed before sending this message, but I feared delay would give you more cause for concern than my appearance--

and I must leave in moments for Mibhor.

"Alexis is still unconscious, but Unya says she is stable. We have placed her in the safest corner of my manor, with a ten of guards on duty at all hours. I swear to you and the CLS, I will protect her life more closely than my own.

"I will rest while Bhelan pilots my flitter to Mibhor, leader in a squadron of many flitters and flyers. Zhenu concealed many Asha in various of his mining camps on Mibhor, but thanks to my poor dead cousin, I believe we can locate and free An-Lieye's family, as well as many others. The designer, Fahara, is safe on my lands, in a chamber very near Alexis's and with the same company of full-time guard. Fahara would have been sent to one of Zhenu's labor-camps for daring to treat an Asha as other than pet."

His eyes were suddenly very warm, as if he met her eyes. Magdalena's gaze blurred; she rubbed tears away impatiently. "I swore an oath to you, Magdalena, and I will do all I can to keep it--to keep myself safe and alive.

But things do not always go as we wish them to. Not in battle. And if something should happen, and I do not survive--I wanted you to know that I will be most sorry not to see you once more. My ... my dearest of all friends."

He seemed to force his whiskers to curve; the smile did not warm his eyes now. "Magdalena, I know you have a life beyond our world. I always knew that, even when I hoped it might be otherwise. Your ballet is a dance form I admire but could never perform. Of course you will eventually leave us to pursue that life. Rob has told me about the dance companies. I am selfish enough to wish you would always remain with us, but I will not ask it. And--

and unselfishly, I am pleased for you. And proud."

Her eyes brimmed with tears.
Oh, Khyriz!
She had seen him in a plain StarBridge jumpsuit; in
Zhona-silk;
in Earth-like jeans. Resplendent in fabric the opposite of hers for the

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welcoming ball. Just now he was grubby, exhausted--and never more beautiful.

"Magdalena, I know Alexis would make the corners of her mouth curve and warn you, 'He's trying to charm you, Perez. To be certain you persuade the CLS.' " His accent and inflection were nearly the match of Alexis's. "I know you will persuade them, because it is right. And when you return, I will be waiting where your ship docks."

His image remained on the screen for a long moment after he finished speaking. Magdalena dashed tears from her eyes and studied the lower-screen information: No space for response--probably he was already on Mibhor, fighting. If something already
had
gone wrong, if this was the last she ever saw of him...
Don't think that!
she ordered herself fiercely and keyed, "Save Message."

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CHAPTER 16

***

Magdalena slept more hours than she was awake, until well beyond the half-constructed jump station. Seven days after the transfer, she woke hungry and almost alert. "Tea will get you the rest of the way there," she mumbled as she shoved the thick braid over her shoulder and pulled on a stretch-waisted pair of Dana's trousers. "You're wasting time you don't have."

The tiny galley was already crowded: An-Lieye, her whiskers still nearly flat in grief, was teaching Dana basic "Fringe of Dancer'' sleeve gestures.

"Hey!" Dana exclaimed as Magdalena squeezed past them to program the servo. "I like this! I can dance without getting my feet tangled up!"

The translator smiled as she eased back to settle into the only chair. "Looks good. Hello, An-Lieye."

Dana sipped tea. ''Did An-Lieye tell you her fringe is starting to grow?"

"I don't think I remember a thing either of you has said in ... wait. Fringe?"

The servo beeped; Dana backed her chair, retrieved a steaming cup of Earl Grey and a dark muffin, and wheeled them over to her. Magdalena

automatically blew on the tea and took a sip. "Wait. An-Lieye--is that what the designer-she was talking about? Apologies, I forgot, you weren't there the day of the ball. But--is that what she meant by true fringe?" The Asha gestured a yes, then looked at Dana

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and gave a very human shrug. Magdalena transferred her inquiring gaze.

"She had to write most of it out for me," Dana admitted. "Too complex for what Asha-sign she's taught me so far. She's originally highland Asha; most highland Asha females grow a forearm mane." She drained her cup, shoved it into the wall niche, and eased forward. "Sorry to eat and run, but the manual override for docking hasn't worked right since I left the jump station.

If I don't see much of you in the next few days, you know where I'll be."

"Headfirst in the hardware or cussing the software," Magdalena agreed.

"Dana ... thank you."

"For what, the ride? We did that, remember? That's what friends are for." And with that, she was gone.

Silence. Magdalena shoved her cup aside. "An-Lieye, I am unsure where to begin, or what to say to you. I don't know what Khyriz or anyone else told you about this journey. How you feel about traveling with me." The other held out both hands for silence, then began to write; the translator picked at her muffin and waited.

*The Prince said we go to a distant place where many outsiders meet. That you will speak for the Arekkhi world, and that I must go so the Great Lie is revealed. He says this meeting is not what Arekkhi or Asha would expect, and that the outsiders will not believe the
zhez
simply because he is noble and we are not.*

"I
hope
that is true," Magdalena said finally.
Her lettering is neater than mine

--I
guess it's still going to catch me by surprise for a while; Zhenu and his
kind did their work very well. But bless Fahara for daring to teach her;
communications could have been much harder.
"I will not lie to you, An-Lieye, not when what we have to do is so important. But if there is any way, we will convince them." An-Lieye gestured a sharp assent. "Have you found anything you can eat?''

Another pause, shorter. *Yes. Dana showed me the machine for food and drink. Some tastes are strange.*

The translator laughed quietly. "The tastes are all strange, even for humans.

An-Lieye, as soon as I finish eating, I must ask you to teach me how to sign."

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Dana had the ship's lights programmed for Arekkhi standard days, mostly for An-Lieye's comfort. Without that, Magdalena would have lost track of time entirely. The other woman spent most of her time isolating and tearing down the small block holding the manual override, then testing it one switch, wire, and chip at a time. Magdalena avoided the flight deck entirely, afraid to step on or move something that would short out everything, knowing also that Dana needed no breaks in her concentration. Magdalena slept through the drop out of FTL so they could make the final jump to Shassiszss Station; now that she'd lost her earlier fears, the flight was mostly boring. Especially now.

Anything could be happening back there. Anything could already have been
decided in the Planetary Council, and we might not even be allowed to
speak....

Mostly, she sat in the galley or in their tiny shared cabin with An-Lieye, learning her gesture language, learning everything she could about Asha in general, and this Asha in particular.

Late one evening, Dana joined them in the galley and programmed the servo for what the machine claimed was Coke and a burger; she was smiling again. "Got it done, and just in time; we drop out of FTL in an hour.

Once I can beam the station we're out here, there may be messages for us."

"Good." Magdalena forced herself to keep eating tuna salad; she'd abruptly lost her appetite. "How long after that until we reach--?"

The engineer grinned. "Long enough; finish your food, you'll need it. Come up to the deck when you're done; the station's impressive.''

Shassiszss Station
was
impressive; two wheel-within-wheel shapes at right angles, like an enormous gyroscope. Magdalena and An-Lieye both stared through the view-port; the translator was pulled halfway around as the other woman swore sharply. "Hey, Perez, come here, there's a message from Mahree, voice only. I'll switch it over there."

"Oh?!' Nervously, she took the seat before the com, then winced as the familiar voice of the Ambassador-at-Large

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boomed into the cabin. Dana swore again and keyed volume.

"Magdalena, do
not
respond to this message! Dana will get her landing bay ID at the end of this, I'll meet you there. Now, don't worry, there's no real problem. But I just received a transmitted statement from Khyriz; he had to send it to me via Rob. It's a minor misunderstanding, I'm sure, but you'll have to explain why a supposedly deposed Emperor has access to your private password and is attempting to contact the CLS from your rooms. End of message. Dana--" The voice cut off as Dana switched transmission back and keyed in a series of digits.

She sighed, then looked at the translator. "All right, we've got about one Arekkhi hour to go. Anything you need to do before we dock, better do it now. And when you get out there, make sure Mahree knows to let
me
know where you are."

Twenty standard minutes later, Magdalena tugged her borrowed shirt and pants straight as the air lock hissed open, hoping no one would notice she wore only socks on her feet-- Dana's shoe size was much larger than hers.

On her right, An-Lieye stood very still except for quivering eartufts, the ruined blue robe clutched to her. Fortunately, the translator had seen the guide-vid to Shassiszss that every first-year StarBridge student viewed; she was able to explain the sapphire-colored decontamination mist and get them both through it. Mahree stood just beyond, dark hair pulled back in a severe, braided chignon.