Eric Flint's Blog, page 208

Through Fire – Snippet 37

Through Fire – Snippet 37

So, our pilots and navigators kept all data in their heads and were prepared to kill themselves if captured. Which was why I’d killed Len and left Earth orbit as fast as I could, to avoid being interrogated or having Len at their mercy because his only hope was regen and that would necessitate surrendering. After which I’d have no control over what happened, and neither would he.

Eden had maybe a hundred thousand people. I didn’t know if anyone had counted lately. Maybe it was as many as half a million. At any rate, as inhabitants of a small asteroid on an eccentric orbit, we had neither the population nor the material resources to fight a war with a planet whose population topped five billion.

No. Keeping secrecy was not a matter of paranoia. And yet…

My fingers played with some spilled salt on the table, as Jonathan LaForce looked at me and said, “Well, Madame? Who are you, where do you come from, and why should we trust you? I know you look somewhat like the Patrician’s special guest, and you might even be her, with some appearance modifications, but that doesn’t stop the possibility that you might also be a traitor. It wouldn’t be the first time that a Patrician took a bed partner who killed him or betrayed him.”

“I was not the Patrician’s bed partner,” I said, and realized I’d started with the most irrelevant part of my answer… “My name is Zenobia Sienna, though if my world had followed the same marriage naming rules as most of Earth, I’d be Zenobia Dufort.”

Corin let a small sound escape and I looked towards him, “My husband’s unmarried name — men change their name in my homeland — was Dufort and he looked somewhat like you, though older… Of course older. Not so much when we married, but–” But when he’d died. I couldn’t say it.

Corin shook his head, “Was he from the continents? We’re the only Duforts in…”

“You know about the Je Reviens?” I asked. “The big, said-to-be-interstellar ship, in which the Mules left with their few remaining servants.”

“Pah,” LaForce said. “That legend. Every historian agrees it’s a myth, designed to allay the collective guilt for killing the rulers and a lot of innocents.”

“Every historian is wrong then,” I tilted my head sideways, trying to delay the inevitable, and at the same time trying to force out words that my better judgment was dubious of my pronouncing. “The Mules did leave on the Je Reviens. A hundred and some Mules, led by Jarl Ingemar. They took with them as many of their servants as they could gather on short notice. I understand the time of departure was put forward, and that meant that some of the people who would otherwise have been on board were left behind. Many died. That weighs heavily on the minds of those in Eden. We hold a remembrance day every year.”

“Eden?”

“It’s… a–a colony in the solar system. Forgive me. I can’t say more.”

Corin’s eyes opened wide. “The darkships. The darkship thieves. They aren’t a myth?”

“No,” I said. “My husband was a pilot. I was his navigator. Both of us were bioed for our functions. He was hit with radiation from an exploded powerpod when the tractor beams from Circum Terra seized our ship. He got too high a dose of radiation. My only hope of saving him was to surrender, and I suspected if I did they’d not expend the needed effort to cure him. The only thing surrendering would do was to get me captured and interrogated by every means at Earth’s disposal. So I shot him and took the ship back home alone.” My voice became expressionless as it usually did when I was talking of Len’s death. It was easier to recite it as a learned lesson than to see, to remember–

“And yet you’re back again?” LaForce said.

“We needed to come back, myself and … and some other people to… to find something needed at home, and we did. I chose to stay behind.”

“Why?” Corin asked.

“Unless you were involved with the Patrician,” LaForce said.

I shook my head. “It’s hard to explain. Let’s say the pressure at home was great towards my remarrying and would have grown greater still with time. My skills and my biological enhancements, in my culture, are used as part of a married couple, and I… had no intention of remarrying. I couldn’t imagine falling in love or even getting attached to someone else that way again, and then not being able to save him. But there were other reasons.”

“So you’re saying you’re descended from the servants of the Good Men who left in the Je Reviens?” Corin asked. “It was family legend that a great-uncle had gone, but we always wondered if he’d just gotten killed, only–” He stopped.

“The Duforts are an old family in Eden, my homeland.”

“But,” Corin said, and stopped and cleared his throat. “But, you see, when we say you’re one of us, we don’t mean descended from enhanced people. While Madame considers everyone like that an abomination, too, given the promiscuous way enhancements were used in the later twenty-first century, I’d say practically everyone is descended from them, no? The pure human beings she imagines don’t exist, do they? But that’s not what we meant. We meant we, the people here, the three of us, and Tieri too; they more than I, maybe, were genetically enhanced, on a personal… first generation level.”

I could read the hurt in his words, see the expectation of recoil and disgust in his eyes, and all I could do was sigh and say, “No. I didn’t mean that. My late husband was just descended from enhanced people. Other… other people on Eden too, but I am the … The easy way to say this would be to say I’m a female clone of Jarl Ingemar, the leading Mule on the Je Reviens. That’s not true of course. I’m the modified version of what Jarl Ingemar would be, were he female, and our genetics are close enough to fool the less discriminating genlocks, but it’s not exactly like being a clone. More like being his sister.”

Corin nodded. “Like Athena Hera Sinistra. She was said to be one such. A fertile Mule. One who could… reproduce with any of the male Mules, the… the Good Men, now. And we know who Jarl Ingemar is. He’s living in this colony then, with the other Mules?” His eyes were narrow and I didn’t know why.

It didn’t seem to be something that needed to be kept secret, nor did I attempt it. “No,” I said. “The Mules left in the Je Reviens, after dropping us, dropping their servants off. All except Jarl Ingemar and Bartolomeu Dias, who stayed behind with the merely enhanced people. Doctor Dias is still alive, but… but Jarl Ingemar is now dead.”

His eyes were still narrowed at me. “So you’re one of them, a… a Mule?”

I shook my head. “Not exactly. I’m not quite sure why I was made, but it had more to do with making two old men happy — I mean the Mules who stayed behind in Eden — than with being a perfect ruler. I was not taught anything needed to take charge. I’m just Zen Sienna, a navigator of darkships, and since Earth has no need for those, I suppose I’m an unemployed navigator of darkships, now. Someone… I’m just one of the Patrician’s friend. He was very kind to me, a stranger on Earth, and I cannot let him die.”

Jonathan LaForce sighed. “How do we know that? That you’re a private individual who wishes to be of help to the Good Man?”

“Because I told you?” I asked, bewildered.

He shook his head slightly. “You could be… a scout? An advance force for the Mules, when they left in the Je Reviens.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Some advance force,” I said. “It’s just me. I spent six months as guest of the Good Man, doing nothing but enjoying his hospitality.”

“But… perhaps you were lying low? Waiting to get your bearings? So the Mules could take over the world?” It was Corin, and he looked like he was convincing himself of the possibility as he spoke.

Mailys cackled. “You have listened to Madame,” she said, in a tone of great appreciation.

 

The Span Of Empire – Snippet 37

The Span Of Empire – Snippet 37

Chapter 18

Lim accompanied Tully to the command deck of the Ban Chao for the second pathfinder jump.

“They’ve installed jump seats along the back wall,” Tully murmured as he led her through the door. “The first pathfinder jump was a little rugged, so they’ve beefed up the seats and restraints all over the bridge.” He touched a dark spot on his face and winced. “Vanta-Captain Ginta says they’ve learned the tricks now, and this jump will be smoother.” He sat down and fastened a harness across his torso. “I’m still going to belt in.”

Lim took the seat next to the human’s, carefully arranged her robes, and fastened a restraint across her lap.

“Have you observed a jump before?” Tully asked.

“Not from a command deck,” Lim responded. “Will it be much different from what I have seen?”

“I doubt it,” Tully said. “Especially since this crew is mostly Jao. They all act like it’s just another day at work, even when it’s as risky as sliding down a mountain slope on one ski with no poles.”

Lim turned her head to look at Tully. Having spent most of her time on Earth in the North American region called Colorado, she understood his metaphor. It seemed apt. But it surprised her to see him grinning at her.

“Lighten up, Lim,” Tully said. “Man, don’t you guys ever laugh at anything? Crack a joke? Something?”

“Your propensity for ‘humor’ is one of the things we study in Terralore elian,” Lim said. “There are theories that it is somehow connected to your ability to do ollnat.”

Tully snorted. “Just about everything we do is connected to ollnat, Lim. It’s how we humans have survived for thousands of years.”

“From the research Terralore elian has done, ollnat has almost destroyed you as well.”

Tully shrugged. “We’re still here, aren’t we?”

And against that argument, Lim had no counter.

“Whoops, here we go,” Tully said facing forward.

“Set Framepoint One,” Vanta-Captain Ginta ordered.

****

The door opened and Yaut preceded Aille onto the command deck of the Footloose. Aille had named the ship himself, and then named the sister ship the Fancy Free. He understood that humans might have preferred something weightier with more gravitas, but he thought they took this whole naming matter far too seriously, and was not above making some sly fun at their expense. Preceptor Ronz got the joke. Yaut didn’t.

Privately, though, he had to admit that names actually made it easier to keep track of the ships once they were deployed and knowing which one you were referring to at any given moment. Two figures, both Jao, turned to meet them.

“Governor Aille,” said the larger of the two, Terra-Captain Sanzh krinnu ava Terra, displaying a firm ready-to-be-of-service. Before joining Terra taif, he had been Sanzh krinnu Kasem vau Aris, a secondary kochan associated with mid-tier kochan Aris, from the far side of Jao space. His pelt was plush, slightly longer than most Jao’s coats, of a most unusual blond shade. Aille had heard one of the humans call it a “palomino” tint. His coat was so light in color that his white vai camiti was almost indiscernible against it, which many Jao found unfortunate.

“Terra-Captain Sanzh,” Aille replied. “Is all ready?”

“Waiting word from Trident,” the Terra-Captain said. “They signaled a last minute, ah, glitch.”

Aille let his angles flow to a tripartite humored-reception-of-awkward-news. “Rafe said the ship would be ready. It will be. Prepare for jump, Terra-Captain.”

The Terra-Captain said nothing, simply turned and began issuing directions to the nearby bridge crew. Aille turned to the other Jao who had been waiting his attention.

“Governor Aille,” she murmured, angles set in a perfect neutral.

“Pleniary-superior Tura,” Aille said in turn.

He recalled his last meeting with Ronz. The Preceptor had come to him at the Pascagoula base which had become the center for ship designs and refits. It had surprised him greatly when the Preceptor was announced. Before he could do more than rise from his seat, Ronz had entered the room, followed, as he usually was, by Tura.

“Preceptor,” Aille had said, speaking first as his was the lower rank.

“Aille,” Ronz had replied. And then, in Jao fashion, had continued directly with, “I have added one more to your party. Tura will go with you.”

Aille’s head had tilted, ears moving forward as his angles slipped into consideration. “You believe she will be needed to restrain Caitlin’s ollnat?”

“No.” Ronz had showed no angles at all, in his typical manner. He was perhaps the hardest Jao alive to read if he didn’t want to be read.

“You anticipate a need for the presence of the Bond?”

“Say rather, I anticipate a need for the authority of the Bond.”

Aille had heard what Ronz said; and just as importantly, what he hadn’t said. He then looked beyond the Preceptor to where Tura had stood, angles all neutral. Her eyes were black; there was no sign of tension in her stance. There had been nothing to be read there.

That same calm stature, that same set of neutral angles faced Aille now on the command deck of the Footloose. There was no doubt in Aille’s mind that the pleniary-superior was on this deck for a reason. But he did doubt that he would be able to determine what that reason was just now. Ronz was the premier strategist of the Bond of Ebezon. His assessments were far-seeing; his strategies indirect and subtle–witness Aille’s supplanting of Oppuk as Governor of Terra.

Did Tura even know why she was there? Aille considered it well within Ronz’s methods to have given her direction to go without giving her a reason as to why. It would be in keeping with the Preceptor’s approach to strategy, after all; no one knew that better than Aille. He decided not to ask her; not now.

At that moment, the main view screen flashed and Rafe Aguilera’s visage came into view.

“Trident to Footloose. We’re ready to jump at any time.”

Aille turned from Tura to Terra-Captain Sanzh.

“Order the jump, Captain.”

****

Lim noted that everyone on the command deck, Jao and humans alike, seemed to relax a bit as the Ban Chao cleared the corona transition. Tully in particular seemed to almost go limp as he sat back in his seat and sighed. “Glad that’s over.”

She turned and considered him. “Do you not like Frame travel, then?”

“Ah, that would be a big ‘No’.” Tully ran a hand through his short hair. “But when Aille says ‘Go’, and Ed Kralik says ‘Go’, I go.”

“Would it be easier to travel if you weren’t on the command deck?” Lim was curious. To those of her people who came out of the Lleix dochaya, Tully was second only to Caitlin Kralik in terms of being revered; more so than any of the current Lleix leaders, she had to admit. This was a side of Tully she hadn’t seen before, and she was curious.

“Not a chance,” Tully said with emphasis. “If something goes wrong when we jump into a sun and I end up being little flakes of carbon floating around in the solar plasma, I at least want to see it coming so I can kiss my ass goodbye.”

He grinned at her, at which point Lim gathered that the last statement was another manifestation of human humor.

“Come on,” Tully continued as he released his harness. “Now that we’re here, it’s going to take another couple of days at least before anything else interesting happens out there. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

Lim freed herself from her restraint and stood to follow Tully’s lead out of the command deck. They took a lift down a couple of decks, then Tully led her down a long passageway and around several bends before they walked into a surprisingly spacious exercise deck filled with jinau, humans and Jao alike.

 

Castaway Odyssey – eARC

Is Available!

http://www.baen.com/castaway-odyssey-...

 

Castaway Odyssey – Chapter 21

Castaway Odyssey – Chapter 21

Chapter 21.

The pistol bucked three times in Xander’s hand, almost without him willing it. A screech and convulsive writhing showed that he’d hit the sinuous creature just as the targeting app had said he would; the centisnake, as Maddox had named the thing, shuddered to a slow halt; once it was still, Tavana stepped forward and brought the machete down hard, taking the head from the body and causing another powerful but this time harmless sequence of thrashings.

The younger but broader boy wiped his forehead and face with a cloth he carried at his belt. “That, it is the last of them, I think.”

“Hope so. We’ll have to do another full walkaround of the entire area, though.”

There had been a total of four of the ambush predators lurking under the cleared area around LS-88. It had been Xander’s priority to finish the job the Sergeant had started; there was no way he was taking a chance of something like that hiding in a hole where it could jump out and grab Franky or Maddox. Must’ve been a nest or colony of the things here. Predators can’t be concentrated too close together usually; you need enough non-predators around to support them, after all.

“You did good, Tav. I know you were scared –”

“I was not…” Tavana trailed off, then rolled his eyes and grinned sheepishly. “Oui, I was scared half to death going back out here.”

“I know you were,” Xander repeated. “And I saw your hands shaking at first. But you did everything just the right way, and now we’ve got probably a safe perimeter and definitely more to eat, now that we know the centisnake’s meat is good.”

He made sure the hole was at the center of his field of view, and then said “Mark hole finished.” Immediately a red blotch, looking for all the world as though someone had spray-painted the hole, appeared in his retinals – and, he knew, on Tavana’s since the two were linked. “And this was a great idea.”

“That I am proud of,” agreed Tavana. “I was thinking how hard it was to be sure which holes we had checked, and realized it would be simple to tell the omnis to remember and mark them. Took only a few minutes to instruct.”

“Well, it’ll make re-checking the grounds a lot easier; if there are any holes we’ve missed, they won’t be marked.”

They started the second patrol, beginning right at the edge of the berm or wall of scraped earth that surrounded the camp. “What’s after this?”

“Hold on. Maddox!”

His brother’s voice responded almost instantly through his omni. “Yeah, bro, what’s up?”

“We’ve got three more centisnakes. Sorry to put this on you two, but come pick them up, then clean and fillet them. We need to get the meat into storage.”

“Oh, ugh.” Maddox sighed. “All right. Francisco!”

Fortunately Francisco didn’t argue, and so the two younger members of their little crew were soon on their way to pick up the catch of the day. Xander turned back to Tavana. “After this? We start getting that perimeter monitor set up that we were working on during the, what, dark-day?”

“”Dark-day? Heh. I like it. We will have to deal with dark-days a lot. We are near the equator, yes? So daylight and night-time are about eighteen hours.” Tavana nodded. “Hm. So we have to start taking apart one of the excavators for sensor systems.”

“I think so. There’s only five omnis between us – six, if we count Lieutenant Haley’s, I guess – and we’ll want those for ground comm, tool support, all sorts of stuff. I really don’t want to sacrifice an omni if we don’t have to. Unless we’ve got a case of them in storage somewhere?”

Tavana shook his head. “That would have been nice, but no, I did not see any such things. So then yes, we will have to strip the situational awareness sensors from one of the excavators.”

“Will one excavator give us enough? I know we have four of them.”

“I think yes. They need full panoramic awareness, and the design uses dedicated sensors for all sides, not a single sensor on a mast like some cheaper designs. Though it does have a mast-mounted scanning LIDAR; I will probably leave that installed.”

Xander looked around. “That perimeter’s going to be huge, though. Compared to the machine, anyway; will they still have the range? And for that matter, can they operate by themselves?”

Tavana pointed to a suspicious circle of dirt that they had, somehow, missed; the two began the “poke it with a stick” protocol. “If we put a solar pack on them, I think they will operate fine alone; even very stupid sensors these days are more than able to function independent of central systems. Range, that will not be a problem; sometimes they use their sensors to coordinate operations with other devices a long way off. I can tie the sensor data to our omnis – or better, I will tie them to LS-88’s main computers and they will be able to do a target evaluation.”

“Sounds good.” There simply weren’t enough of them – even if the Sergeant were up and about, which he wasn’t – to maintain a good watch using people, but if the sounds they’d heard out there in the dark were any indication, there were definitely things on Emerald bigger and more dangerous than the centisnakes – which were plenty dangerous on their own.

There was no reaction from this hole, so they marked it clear and continued. “We… or maybe just I… will have another little task that has to be done soon,” he said after a few moments.

“I think there are many tasks we will have to do soon. What is this one?”

“Lieutenant Haley. The Sergeant won’t be able to tend to her for a while, and we know what happens if she’s just left in the suit for too long. She needs to be… um, cleaned off, and the suit needs to be washed out.”

Tavana nodded, then looked up at him. “If it’s embarrassing for you, maybe it would help to wait for the Sergeant to wake up. He’s in his suit now, yes?”

“Yes. Didn’t wake up yet, but I sure hope soon.” That worried Xander, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. The medical database was helpful, but it wasn’t a full-blown AI, and couldn’t fully understand or model the devil’s brew of toxins the centisnake had injected. The necrosis appeared to have been halted, but some of the other effects were apparently harder to reverse.

“So wait for him to wake up. If he directs you, much less for you to worry about.” Tavana’s smile seemed patronizing.

“What are you grinning about?”

“You North Americans, you are so shy about things. Worry about having chaperones even for the doctors and nurses, I think.”

Xander couldn’t think of an appropriate retort; Tavana was probably right. This was a nursing situation; you had to take care of the patient, and there wasn’t anything inappropriate in that. And he was probably also right that waiting a day or two for the Sergeant to be awake enough to direct it wouldn’t hurt. “Guess you’re right. About both things.”

Tavana’s grin was much less annoying, suddenly. “I am?” He looked down suddenly. “Sorry for being –”

“No, no, like I said, you’re right. Body-shyness and stupid societal stuff keeping me from taking care of someone like the Lieutenant when she needs it? THAT would be something to be sorry for.”

By the time they finished the second sweep of the camp grounds – a few hours later – Maddox and Francisco had completed the cleaning of the centisnakes. “What do we do with the, um, remains?”

“Good question.” They did not want to start getting a garbage dump to attract whatever the equivalent of flies and rats might be. Plus… “Let’s pick out some organs that might be useful for fishing. The rest… I think we should probably burn it for now. When the Sergeant’s up, we’ll all talk about how we want to handle that for the long run. How much meat have we got?”

“A lot!” Francisco answered. “We’ve almost filled the shelter freezer!”

That was a fair amount. “I was hoping for something more like an actual number, though.”

“Well,” Maddox said, “Umm… here, we’ve got the pressure sensors at the doors to open and close them, right? If we tie our omnis into that –”

“We could just put the meat on a plastic sheet on the doorstep and find out. Good thinking, Maddox!”

After a few minutes work, Xander nodded. “Not bad. A little more than twenty kilos.”

Tavana frowned. “That seems awfully small. Just one of those things must have been over thirty kilos!”

“Closer to forty,” Xander said. “But they’re long and skinny. You’re not going to get a huge yield out of them. Even fish like sea bass don’t generally give you more than about a third of their mass in really usable food, so I think this is actually really good. Great job, Maddox, Francisco!”

Francisco made a face. “It is messy. And smelly.”

Maddox and Xander laughed. “Oh, it sure is. Cleaning what you kill is always the part everyone likes least. The stalking and the hunting, that’s fun. Cooking, that can be fun too. Eating, that’s fun. Gutting and cleaning it? Not so fun.”

“And I guess all of us will have to be doing this not-fun,” Tavana said in a resigned tone.

“Better than trying to make one person do it. Right?”

Tavana’s smile was obviously forced, but Xander appreciated that he was making the effort. “Oui, yes, of course. All of us have to do the work. Even the work we do not like.”

“So we’re going to eat some of this tonight, right, Xander?” asked Francisco excitedly. “I cut this one!” He held up a fillet that was rather obviously more ragged than others. “Can we eat it?”

This time none of the smiles were forced. “Of course we can. I’ll fry it up for everyone.”

As he got out the cooking utensils and the limited seasonings that were part of the shelter’s equipment, he wondered what he could do for the future. I don’t think we can live just on meat. Maybe we can, but it’s not good. We’ll need to find other things to eat. And stuff like seasonings, salt, to make it fun to cook. We’re incredibly lucky that we landed with all these resources, but they’ll run out – and some will run out fast. I don’t think we’ve got dietary supplements anywhere on board, either.

It was starting to dawn on him just how complicated this was going to be. Going to Tantalus Colony was a completely different situation; there, they would be the second wave, with the first part of the colony set up. Things like “what can we eat”, and “what will kill us” would be questions answered long before, and the issues of nutrition would not only have been figured out, but also the ship they arrived on would have everything they needed to stay alive.

He cut the meat into pan-sized sections, dusted it with a bit of salt and pepper, and started frying, still thinking. Not having analytical equipment is really going to make this dangerous. Francisco made sense as a taste-tester, but as he remembered from his camping days, usually animal-borne toxins weren’t nearly as bad as those that plants might be carrying. We’ll have to be incredibly careful; I think there are plants on Earth that can kill people with as little as one seed. Heck, there are some things on Earth that you don’t want to touch. Maybe we’ll have to find some kind of animal we can keep or observe as a test subject.

Xander really didn’t like that last thought. Not only would it be hard to keep any animal you didn’t understand to begin with, but also it was just not a nice thing to do – imprison some animal so it could eat things and maybe die for your protection. But something like that might be necessary if he was going to keep everyone alive.

The sizzling meat smelled appetizing; Francisco had seemed to like the little bit he ate a couple days ago. Well, let’s see what it’s like!

“C’mon, everyone, dinner’s ready!” he called.

He served everyone straight from the pan onto their plates, then sat down.

His omni gave a loud ping that he’d been praying for, and he stood up so suddenly he almost tipped over the little table.

“What is it, Xander?” asked Maddox, concern on his face.

“It’s the Sergeant,” Xander answered, heading to the side room where the older man was lying. “He’s waking up!”

 

1636: The Chronicles of Dr. Gribbleflotz – Snippet 51

1636: The Chronicles of Dr. Gribbleflotz – Snippet 51

She almost stepped on them. The woman — more of a girl really — was huddled up, with the baby in her arms, staring at Ratter. The girl looked as if she hadn’t had a meal, let alone a good one, in many days.

“Hello, can I help you?” Tracy bent down and offered her a hand up, but the girl drew back in terror.

“If you come with me I’ll feed you and your baby,” Tracy said as calmly as she could. But it can’t have been calmly enough for the girl just sat there, on the ground, staring at her with her big blue eyes.

Tracy reached out and gently pulled the girl to her feet. “Come on, there’s food in the house.” She was talking to calm the girl down, and it seemed to be working. Or it would have if Ratter hadn’t kept making a noise.

“Ratter, shut up.” That didn’t work too well, so Tracy called him to her. When he arrived she picked him up and introduced him to the girl. “This is Ratter,” she said.

Fortunately, from his position of safety in Tracy’s arms Ratter didn’t feel he had to be so protective of his territory, and he tried to lick tears that were running down the girl’s cheeks. That got a giggle from her. It wasn’t much, but as far as Tracy was concerned, it was real progress.

Tracy led the girl into the house and sat her down on the bench seat by the table, then she put Ratter down beside the girl and stood back to take stock. She didn’t have much basis to estimate the age of the girl, but she looked way too young to be the child’s mother. But there was a war going on, and Tracy knew that it wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility. Unfortunately, those possibilities included rape, and she wasn’t really sure she knew how to deal with the ramifications if that was how the baby had been conceived. There was however one thing she could do right now, and that was feed the pair.

Keeping an eye on her guests Tracy put the shotgun away before microwaving a watery bowl of stew and slicing and buttering some bread. The girl, her eyes darting from between Tracy and Ratter, was ever watchful. The moment Tracy put the food down the girl dived in.

Tracy stood back and watched. She was worried that the girl might be eating so fast that she’d be sick. Now, what to do? After a moment’s thought Tracy went to the phone and called the police.

****

It was getting late. Soon the sun would be hidden behind the surrounding hills. Tracy was waiting at the door as the police vehicle pulled up. Officer Ralph Onofrio stepped out of the driver’s seat while a young uniformed woman stepped out the passenger seat. While Ralph approached Tracy the young woman helped an older woman from the back seat before letting a large dog out of the back. It looked like a grey, long haired German Shepherd, except it’s ears didn’t flop over, and it seemed to have heavily furred shoulders and neck.

“Tracy, this is Police Recruit Erika Fleischer and her mother. We understand you need someone to help with a young German woman and baby?”

Before Tracy could answer, Ratter charged through the door, his fur puffed up, and a sound that could only be called a growl, issued from his mouth. The woman’s dog, actually little more than a puppy, advanced sniffing.

“Pluto, no!”

“Pluto?” Tracy turned to Ralph. “You called that monstrosity Pluto?”

“Hey, blame television,” Ralph said with a shrug. “Erika was watching a Disney video when her boyfriend turned up with the little fellow.”

“Little, that animal was never little. Just look at the size of those paws. He’s going to be enormous when he grows up.” Pausing for breath Tracy reached forward to restrain the excited Ratter. “Can you please keep your dog outside? We don’t need a territorial squabble just now.” With Pluto left waiting just out the door, occasionally pushing his snout through the “cat flap” Tracy lead Ralph and the two women to her guests.

****

Tracy watched Ted cycle up the drive. He disappeared for a couple of minutes into the garage before reappearing which the saddlebag slug over a shoulder and his rifle, still in its scabbard, in his hand. Behind her Erika joined them. She appeared upset.

“Her name is Richelle,” Erika said. “She’s almost fifteen, and the child is hers, a girl. The father was her stepfather, they executed him for incest. It’s only because of she was pregnant they didn’t execute her. She managed to escape before her baby was born.” She wiped the tears that were starting to fall from her eyes before continuing. “The bastard didn’t touch her until she was fourteen.” With the last comment Erika stormed out of the house, to be shortly seen crying into Pluto’s neck.

Tracy looked to Ralph. “What did she mean?”

“The bastard bit? Under fourteen and she’s under the age of responsibility, and the guy gets all the blame. Over fourteen, she’s a willing party, and also liable for the death penalty. What Erika probably means is, the bastard deliberately waited until his stepdaughter stood to suffer the death penalty for incest if she complained, before he raped her.”

Ted was just coming through the door as Tracy barged past him out into the yard. He turned to follow her.

“Don’t.” Ralph laid a restraining hand on Ted’s shoulder. “Let her go.”

Ted looked to Ralph. “What the hell’s going on?”

“She’s experiencing what my wife calls a ‘men are utter bastards’ moment. Give her a bit of time to cool down. She’s just had a rather brutal introduction to the local customs.”

****

Erika was peering through the windows trying to see into the basement workshop when Tracy joined her.

“Do you want to come in for a better look?”

She nodded and followed Tracy as she unlocked the door and turned on the lights. Erika found herself in a workroom. “What do you make in here?”

“Lately it’s been tents, and more tents.”

“Those marvelous canvas houses for the refugee center? You made those? Here?”

“Yes, I sent the last lot off earlier today. Until I get more canvas, I’m a lady of leisure.”

“Lady of leisure? What is that?”

“It’s an expression. It means that I won’t be working, in here at least. With two young children the household chores never end.”

Erika’s ears pricked at the mention of children. Her eyes casting around the workshop, she could see a cordoned off area where children could play without getting underfoot. Before she could voice her thoughts there was a clatter and whine from the door. Looking at it, she could see a long grey snout poking through the little flap near the bottom of the door. Turning to Tracy she started to speak, only for Tracy to interrupt.

“Oh, let him in. We’ll never have any peace if you leave him out there.”

“Is he going to be a police dog?” Tracy asked while Erika let Pluto into the workshop.

Erika turned her head, leaving herself exposed to a lick on the other side of the face. She pushed Pluto’s snout away. “Chief Frost has talked of it. He thinks Pluto would have much to offer the police department if he were properly trained.”

Erika, closely followed by Pluto, walked round the workroom. Stopping, she gestured at the machines. “Do you have anybody to help you?”

“Ted, my husband, used to help, but now he’s needed to help with the building program. Why do you ask?”

“I have a widowed sister, and a sister-in-law. Both have young children, so their work options are limited. Maybe they could work for you?”

The idea of having someone over the age of five to talk too appealed to Tracy. “I don’t suppose they know anything about using a sewing machine?”

Erika smiled. “No, but that means they won’t have any bad habits to unlearn.”

A few days later, Jena

Phillip held the directions close to his eyes so he could focus on the words, then he laid the paper down and proceeded to the next step in making nitrogen triiodide.

“Do you need glasses,” Jonathan asked.

“Glasses?” Phillip asked.

“Spectacles. You know.” Jonathan used the thumbs and forefingers of both hands to make spectacle frames and held them to his eyes. “They improve your eyesight.”

Phillip snorted and waved to a drawer under one of the benches. “Over there. They are useless.”

 

Through Fire – Snippet 36

Through Fire – Snippet 36

Rebellion

When Jonathan arrived, we were looking through the food stored in the fridge portion of the cooker. Cookers on Earth were baffling. There were two kinds: the very cheap ones that just heated things, and then the complex ones that you needed a degree to program. I was used to the cookers on Eden, where you chose what you wanted to eat, and it was delivered to you. This cooker was the one you needed a degree to program. Which was a problem, since the only pre-prepared food needing only to be heated had been consumed at our other meal.

The cooker contained frozen steaks, frozen fish, frozen vegetables, and, in the refrigerated compartments, fresh vegetables. All of which were useless, since we had no idea how to cook them.

Corin flung the freezer closed and said, “I suppose we could always light a fire in the backyard and cook meat over it, like savages.”

“Not the backyard, Corin, no,” Mailys said in a fainting voice. “The graves!”

He looked contrite. “No.”

And that’s when the knock at the door came, in the code LaForce had showed us. Even so, Mailys looked through a spy hole on the door, before opening, and I had my burner out and pointed at the man as he came in.

Jonathan LaForce was, as the com had shown, dark-haired and bearded. What the com had failed to show is that he was also intimidating. Despite not being nearly as tall as Brisbois, he gave the impression of being at least that tall, perhaps more.

He came in, his hair on end, and from the moment he entered the room, he somehow distorted the space around him and took charge.

It started with his sheepish grin at my burner pointed at his belly. He said “Alors,” smiled again, and then, without seeming to care that I was still pointing the burner at him, he asked Mailys, “I wonder if I could use the fresher? And do you have any food?”

Corin snorted. “Food enough, if we can figure out how to use it.

LaForce cast a look at the stove, “Oh, an Elite 55? We have the cheaper model at home, but it works pretty much the same. Don’t worry about it. If I can use a fresher, first?”

I put my burner away. If he was just going to ignore it, there wasn’t any point. I could pull it out fast enough anyway, should he get funny, and until then it clearly wasn’t intimidating him or putting him on his best behavior. If he was a hostile, after all, I’d have to count on my ability to shoot him suddenly.

Mailys conducted him to one of the guest rooms on the bottom floor. He emerged impossibly fast, looking like a new man. He looked clean and his newly combed hair was still beaded with water. He’d trimmed his beard. He wore a dark blue tunic and pants, both of which stretched so much over his frame that it was obvious they’d been tailored for someone much smaller. Philip, I assumed, or maybe the Bonnaires had kept spare guest suits.

Corin had gone upstairs to get Tieri, who came down holding his hand, followed by the little kitten. LaForce looked sad, and then talked to the child, asking her about the kitten. In moments she was prattling on about how she’d found him in the backyard just before Maman had called and told her that she had to go in the little room, so Tieri had taken the little cat in the room with her.

“But he doesn’t have a name yet,” she said. “I was thinking of calling him Soleil.”

“For his being gold?” LaForce asked and picked the little girl up.

“Yes. But I’ll ask Maman what to call him when she comes back. Will she be long?”

“She has important work to do,” LaForce said. “What do you like to eat, ma petite? And what should we feed this little cat?”

Moments later, he’d cooked a plate of chicken and corn for the little girl, and he was setting a plate of plain cooked fish in front of Soleil.

Then he busied himself at the cooker again. This time it took longer. Tieri, done with her food, asked to go play. Play — we checked as we were afraid she’d turn on the com — was to take place in the playroom/nursery at the end of the house, where she had her dolls and toys that I couldn’t even understand. When we escorted her there, she showed us the dolls and also three different construction games.

She seemed disappointed we didn’t wish to stay and play with her, though Corin told her he would perhaps be able to after we ate.

Back in the kitchen, we sat down while Jonathan LaForce dished out a gourmet meal of steak, lightly seared and still rare inside, potatoes in butter, and a vegetable medley to which he’d added herbs and spices.

I realized I was ravenous. The food we’d eaten earlier had barely taken the edge off my hunger. If I hadn’t been so worried, I’d have been aware of starving earlier.

We sat at a round table, as Jonathan put plates in front of the three of us, before taking a plate for himself.

He ate as bluntly as he did everything else. Not exactly with bad manners, but giving the impression that he had no time for flourishes or even much conversation.

We each drank what we fancied from the stock in the house, in my case a dark beer.

“And now,” he said. “I suppose you want to ask me questions, Madame? I suppose that’s why you asked me to come here?”

I nodded to him, then looked at Corin, who got my question without my asking it. He went down the hall to the playroom and tiptoed back to tell us she was well enough entertained.

“La pauvre petite,” Jonathan said. “I’ll take her to my wife, I think. One more in our brood won’t make a big difference. And she’s young. She’ll forget.”

“Your wife…” Mailys said. “She’s safe?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve arranged for her to hide as…” He shrugged. “She and the children are safe, and I’ll take Tieri Bonnaire to her after dinner, if no one objects.” His eyes softened in a way I hadn’t thought possible. “We can always afford another child. Or at least, well, someone has to look after her, and my wife will love her like our own.”

Since both Mailys and Corin, who had trouble agreeing that the sky was blue, seemed to think this was a great idea, I nodded, then said, “You said you had a list of people like… us? You? What did you mean?”

He looked from me to Corin and Mailys.

Mailys shrugged. “I’d never heard of her, but she is one of us. Has to be, or she wouldn’t have been able to keep up with us when we escaped after Brisbois was– After he tried to kill Dechausse.”

“Ah,” LaForce said. “But Madame Parr is also one of us.”

“Yes, but…” Corin cast me a confused look. “Zenobia helped us defeat the people besieging our house. Besides, Brisbois trusts her.”

I was at a loss to think what part of my interaction with Brisbois had given Corin the impression I was trusted, rather than merely tolerated.

At any rate, all LaForce said was, “But Brisbois is missing. And you were… ambushed?”

Corin sighed. “She did refuse to take the rescue trip out of here. But so did I.”

I could probably shoot them all, or at least two of them before they even realized what I was doing. My hand was in my pocket, clenched around the burner. But I didn’t press the trigger. Dead they’d be no use to me.

I needed to find out where Simon was, and figure out a way to rescue him. I needed to find my way around this bewildering city. I needed allies. And besides, if I shot them all, I’d become responsible for Tieri. I didn’t see myself dodging crazy revolutionaries all over town, while saddled with a child and a kitten. There were limits to even my self-delusion.

I made a quick calculation. It had been important for me to not tell anyone, other than Simon, who already knew, about Eden, about how I’d come to be here and about what I was.

Partly it was a habit of secrecy engrained in my people. When their ancestors had left Earth to fund Eden, it had been important to keep Eden secret. It still was. As had been proven when Athena Hera Sinistra’s loss had caused the Good Men to start ambushing the darkships: the ships from Eden that came to Earth orbit to steal energy pods.

 

The Span Of Empire – Snippet 36

The Span Of Empire – Snippet 36

****

The permissions and orders advanced to Third-Mordent from Ninth-Minor-Sustained brought her ship directly to the harmony master’s docking stage. She left her ship in the care of the younger Ekhat and entered into the station. Of all the tones she heard when she passed through the entryway, one immediately locked into her mind and drew her forward. She didn’t know the path she followed, but several lengths of hall and several corner turns later she stood before two Ekhat on the edge of entering predator mode, crouched, heads beginning to lower, red-rimmed eyes focused on her as she approached. She came to a stop before them, restraining her own predator instincts with moderate difficulty.

“You are Third-Mordent,” one of them sang in jagged tones.

She said nothing; just let her forehand blades ease out enough to show their gleaming white edges. After a moment, the other sang, “Enter.”

The doors opened before Third-Mordent. She passed between the two guards and entered the great hall, where she was greeted by a towering wave of sound. Choirs of many different types of servients, many of which had been uplifted by the Complete Harmony, were clustered around the periphery of the room, each cluster producing different leitmotivs and harmonies. Any combination of clusters would seem dissonant, yet the complexity of the whole was an aural structure that was nothing less than a buttress of harmony for the Melody. The staccato chants, the screams, the yammers, the soaring glissandos into aria figures; Third-Mordent would have called it all divine if she had had a concept of God.

In the center of the great room, turning slowly from left to right, stood Ninth-Minor-Sustained. For the barest moment, Third-Mordent considered her. The harmony master had wide repute among the Complete Harmony faction; among all Ekhat of any knowledge, for that matter. And she was old; with her own eyes, Third-Mordent saw that the harmony master’s tegument was even darker than it had appeared in the hologram projector of her ship, having moved from white past old ivory and approaching weathered bone. That and the harmony master’s size made her easily the oldest Ekhat Third-Mordent had ever seen.

Third-Mordent remained still as the doors closed behind her. She saw the harmony master’s head tilt suddenly. In the next moment, Ninth-Minor-Sustained had spun and was suddenly confronting her, head looming high. Third-Mordent remained still, every muscle tense under her tegument, the barest edge of forehand blades showing.

They made a tableau filled with menace as the music sounded all around them. Third-Mordent could sense predator aggression tensioned in the great legs of Ninth-Minor-Sustained, could see the left forehand blade start to ease out of its sheath. For her part, the full edge of both forehand blades was exposed, and she could feel her vision beginning to narrow to the form of the harmony master.

Third-Mordent had no idea why she was here. Ninth-Minor-Sustained had ordered her presence without explanation. She had no illusions that she could defeat Ninth-Minor-Sustained if the harmony master’s purpose was to exact a price for being the messenger of dissonant disaster. Ninth-Minor-Sustained was renowned for being a formidable fighter, and her scars and her survival to reach her current size proved that beyond a doubt.

Only the slim thought that there might be another reason for her own presence kept Third-Mordent from springing into an all-out assault on the harmony master, suicidal though it would have been. But she was poised for it, muscles tensed, leaning forward slightly, when suddenly Ninth-Minor-Sustained stepped back once, twice, and again.

Third-Mordent almost fell over as the object of her focus removed herself. Disoriented for a moment, she heard Ninth-Minor-Sustained sing for her ears alone, “So you are not a fool to waste yourself to no purpose. Well.”

The harmony master turned a quarter-turn and passed a manipulator in a motion to draw focus to the choir clusters. “What would you add to this?”

Third-Mordent forced her muscles to relax, and stood straight. Her fore-hand blades folded away; her manipulators were carried high, poised to be of use. She turned her mind to the music again, this time listening to it with all of her attention.

Ninth-Minor-Sustained did not rush Third-Mordent. She was allowed to listen to a lengthy portion of the performance.

It dawned on Third-Mordent that the music was a great canon when she finally heard one of the clusters return to themes they had uttered when she entered the room. She looked around, counting the clusters. If they each had their own theme, this was the largest canon she had ever heard of.

There! Another cluster began its theme again. So many themes; none were familiar. She listened again for a full iteration of the canon, auditory sensors at their most sensitive, hearing as each cluster sooner or later restarted its theme.

Ninth-Minor-Sustained remained silent.

Now Third-Mordent had the whole form in her mind. She saw the structure as she heard it, and there were moments . . . there!

Third-Mordent had an inspiration for a theme–a motif, really–and the moment for it to begin was fast approaching. She gathered herself as tensely as if she were going into predator mode, focused on one thing alone. She even felt her vision beginning to narrow down.

The moment came. Tone erupted from Third-Mordent; high and piercing, it keened and wailed, soaring above the other themes, held by her breath support until it descended in fractal tones to a quavering that morphed into a hard pulse. She broke the pulse at just the right moment, then launched again into her motif. This time it was harder, sharper, containing an edge of rage that she could not suppress, still touched as she was by the disaster she had seen the wreckage of in Descant-at-the-Fourth’s system.

When Third-Mordent broke after the pulse the second time, Ninth-Minor-Sustained raised a manipulator to prevent her launching a third iteration of the motif.

“Interesting,” the harmony master said for Third-Mordent’s hearing only. “It has the virtue of simplicity, but it carries all before it. A worthy addition, I think it.”

Third-Mordent watched, almost appalled, as Ninth-Minor-Sustained stalked over to the largest cluster and divided it in two. At a sign, one continued with its original theme. The other waited until the harmony master, judging the passage of the work, cued them. The new cluster reproduced Third-Mordent’s motif. To perfection, she noted in the haze of surprise that was in her mind.

It came to Third-Mordent that the performance was of Ninth-Minor-Sustained’s work, and that the harmony master had considered her improvisation of sufficient merit to be included in the structure of the canon. Shock followed upon shock.

Ninth-Minor-Sustained turned to Third-Mordent. “Come.” Nothing more than that, but the younger Ekhat followed the harmony master as if she were being towed by a cable.

 

The Span Of Empire – Snippet 35

The Span Of Empire – Snippet 35

Of course, humans being humans, they were arguing about what to call the ship. Not the name of the ship itself–almost everyone was happy to use Trident for both the ship and class names, particularly since it carried happy resonances for a very successful ship type of the Unites States of America, Terra’s dominant political unit prior to the Jao conquest. No, what they were arguing about, of all things, was how to describe the classification of the ship. Rafe Aguilera was partial to calling it a “subchromine”. Others were using “solar submarine.” Aille himself saw nothing wrong with calling it a ram ship; that was its designed function, after all. And a few of the humans were beginning to follow that logic. It was a matter of ollnat, he supposed, that after having designed and built what promised to be a breathtaking warcraft, they were wasting time and energy arguing about what to call it.

Aille felt he was beginning to understand Wrot’s penchant for human gestures and proverbs. Sometimes shaking his head seemed to be the only appropriate reaction to the Terran natives.

“All right,” he said, knowing that he startled Aguilera with his easy acquiescence. In truth, he’d planned all along to use Aguilera’s talents and experience. Aguilera could be a bit crusty, but he knew what he was doing.

“Do what you need to get Trident ready,” Aille said.

“When do we leave?” Rafe asked on the way out the door.

“Soon. When time is right.”

Rafe stuck his head back around the doorframe. “That–doesn’t seem like enough time.” His tone was doubtful.

“It will be just enough time and no longer,” Aille said. The rightness of it pulsed through him. Jao always knew how long something would take. He knew Rafe understood that too. He’d worked with the Jao long enough at this point not to question their time sense.

“Then we’ll be ready,” Aguilera said.

Aille knew they would.

****

Yaut found that he had little to do in preparation for the expedition except arrange for others to take over their responsibilities on Terra while they were gone.

In terms of the taif, that was not difficult. Nath krinnu ava Terra, formerly Nath krinnu Tashnat vau Nimmat, but now first kochan parent of Terra taif along with Aille, would remain behind. Given how gravid she was at the moment, that bordered on an absolute necessity. She would be supported by Hami krinnu ava Terra, last of the three Terra taif elders. With Wrot already away with the exploration flotilla and Yaut about to leave with Aille, there was no question that Hami also had to remain behind. Yaut considered her a canny old female. Her birth kochan of Nullu, subordinate of Dree kochan, had lost a real asset when she chose to leave and join Terra taif.

In terms of local government, there were always questions. Humans were prickly if you misunderstood their rank. Often, they misunderstood it themselves, thinking they were more important than they really were. Or sometimes they engaged in outright lying about their status, something a Jao really couldn’t do. Body-speech always betrayed the truthfulness, or lack of it, at any particular moment. Even Oppuk the unsane had never been able to disguise his feelings for long. Only senior Bond officers and members of the kochan elite like Aille or Fleet Commander Dannet could even hold the angles of a simple neutral for very long.

It was fortunate that Caitlin’s father was still serving as President of North America, Yaut mused. Of all the human leaders in place world-wide, he had the best understanding of the Jao. He also had the most stature among the human leaders, so that he exerted more leadership and control over them than anyone else could muster. Not that that meant they bowed to his every wish. Yaut had, more than once, heard him muttering phrases about herding cats. But despite their bickering, they trusted him and would follow his lead on important things.

The window on Yaut’s com pad cleared to reveal the face of President Stockwell staring at him. “Vaish,” the president began, the I-see-you Jao greeting of a subordinate to a superior. Strictly speaking, the president did not report to Yaut. But as Aille’s fraghta, Yaut was the fourth most important person on the planet right now, which effectively made him even higher in practical rank than the President of North America. Hence, President Stockwell being politic.

“Vaist,” Yaut replied, the usual Jao You-see-me response to Stockwell’s greeting.

“What can I do for you?” the president asked.

Yaut appreciated that the president didn’t waste any time on “chit-chat” or “pleasantries.” He had an almost Jao directness about him. Of course, between his surviving many years directly under the claws of Oppuk and his daughter Caitlin’s subsequent proximity to Aille as one of his service, he had probably as much practical understanding of the Jao as anyone except his daughter and Professor Jonathan Kinsey, the most public human expert on Jao, who also happened to be one of Stockwell’s chief advisors.

“Aille will be off-planet for some time.” Yaut came directly to the point. “I will be with him. If you require support or direction, contact Nath.”

Stockwell nodded. “When will you leave?”

“Soon,” Yaut responded.

The president’s mouth twisted. “A day? A month? Give me something a human can understand.”

Yaut shrugged. The human expression had become ubiquitous among the Terra taif Jao. “More than a day, less than a week. I think.”

Stockwell nodded. “How long will you be gone?”

Yaut just looked at him.

Stockwell grimaced again. “Right. As long as you must. Do you have a guess?”

“No.”

“Short or long?”

Yaut considered. The flow changed from moment to moment, but right now it was saying, “Long.”

It was obvious that Stockwell was not pleased at that news. “Okay, while Aille is out puttering around the planets and asteroids, we’ll keep things flowing here on Earth.”

Yaut’s head tilted to one side as he took the angles of correcting-inadvertent-error. “You misunderstand, President Stockwell. We will not be in Terra system at all.”

Stockwell’s eyes widened. “Aille’s going to Ares Base?” That, of course, was the most logical destination for Terra taif’s most prominent member.

“To begin with,” Yaut said.

“And?”

“He intends to take reinforcements out and join your daughter in her search.”

“Oh.” Yaut could see understanding unfold in the human’s mind by watching his face and posture. Stockwell sat back in his chair and ran one hand through his hair. “So he really will be gone a long time.”

“I believe I said that.”

“And if I have things that I really need Aille’s input on . . .”

“Don’t wait to call him.”

“Right.” Stockwell sat forward again. “Do you need anything else from me, Yaut?”

“No. This call was for your benefit.”

“Right.” Even Yaut could hear the tone of Stockwell’s voice reflecting his tension over receiving this information. “I believe I’ll wait until after he’s left to announce this trip.”

Yaut shrugged. “As you will, but everyone around Aille either knows now or will know by tomorrow.”

Stockwell shook his head.

 

Castaway Odyssey – Chapter 20

Castaway Odyssey – Chapter 20

Chapter 20.

“You have to eat something, Tav.”

Tavana jumped slightly at the unexpected voice. He was sitting on the steps of the lander’s ladder, looking up at a comet whose slowly-fading tail covered thirty degrees of the now-dark sky. “Not hungry.”

“Bullcrap,” Xander said, and held out a plate.

He was about to refuse again when his nose caught the scent. “A Buckley? Merde, Xander, we were supposed to be saving those for special occasions!” Even though his anger and depression were trying to keep his stomach in a knot, his mouth was arguing strenuously that he really should take the plate.

“This is a special occasion. Sergeant’s hurt but going to be okay, we’ve survived our first attack by local wildlife, and it’s my first day as Captain. Maybe not a happy special day, but really, we needed something good to make up for all of that.”

“To make up for my screw-up, you mean.” Tavana dropped down from the ladder heavily, falling to hands and knees, then stood and tried to stalk away. “For me almost getting the Sergeant killed.”

He heard a quiet, sharp tap as the plate was put down on the ladder, and then one of Xander’s hands came down on his shoulder. “How much time did you spend outdoors back home, Tav?”

He was a little puzzled by the question, and it almost annoyed him; he was ready for someone to argue that it wasn’t his fault, and this wasn’t something he’d prepared for. “Um… not much. I mean, I wandered outside and looked at the stars, things like that, but I didn’t do much fishing, or boating, or anything of that sort. Reading, studying, simgames like Canister Seven or Jewelbug, that was my thing.”

Xander’s head was a shadow limned with faint silver from the stars and comet-light above, but Tavana could make out the nod. “Right. And you’re a propulsion and power engineer type, not a bio major. Never did much hiking, and even if you had, you were on one of the Polynesian islands, right?”

“Right.” He couldn’t figure out what the point of this was, but he knew Xander; the older Bird brother would have a point.

“So you’ve never seen a dangerous land animal before in your life,” Xander said. “Except maybe human beings. No snakes or crocodiles or even, if I remember right, poisonous spiders.”

There was a part of Tavana that thought it knew what Xander was getting at, but he pulled away. “So what?”

“You know that the Sergeant gave me full authorization just before he blacked out?”

“No – really?” He’d known the Sergeant was trying to tell Xander something, but this…

“Yep. So I reviewed the playback for the whole thing, straight from the Sergeant’s omni. And the only thing you did wrong was something you couldn’t have known was wrong. Sure, I would have known it was a bad idea to poke something like that even when you think it’s dead; I’ve seen a rattler take a bite at someone’s boot in pure dead reflex, just like that thing. But you hadn’t. The Sergeant shot it three times, and killed it sure – it was dead. You didn’t know, and the Sergeant should have told you to stay clear. It’s as much his fault as yours –”

“No it’s –”

“Yes it IS!” Xander snapped. “And when he wakes up, I’ll bet you anything you like that he will say so himself. Maybe you should’ve guessed that you should be more careful, but that’s not worth beating yourself up this much. Learn from it. And don’t starve yourself, that’s a Buckley dinner that’s going cold over there.”

Tavana stared up at the comet again, then bit his lip and looked over at the shadow of Xander near him. Without saying anything, he turned and walked back to the lander and picked up the plate. Southwestern Taco Supreme Meal. “How’d you know this was my favorite?”

“Remember when we first broke out the Buckley’s, way out in the middle of interstellar space? We all talked about our favorite meals.” Xander’s brilliant smile flashed visibly in the dark. “I knew it’d get your attention.”

“You are sneaky.”

“I had to raise Maddox for four years. You learn a lot of tricks that way.”

Tavana wasn’t sure he liked being compared to a thirteen year old… but then, Maddox was awfully bright. He guessed he could live with it. And the first bite of the taco, powerful with cumin, chipotle and ancho peppers, and other spices, helped push away the feelings that had been darker than the night around him. “So I’m not all to blame.”

“No. Maybe you’d have made a different decision on a different day. Who knows? But the Sergeant should have known – did know, or he wouldn’t have reacted that fast. And he achieved what he was after, protecting you. He’s going to be okay, I think. So no long-term harm done, as long as nothing really bad happens in the next few weeks. We’ll just have to be about a dozen times more careful until then.”

He heard Xander take a bite of something, realized the older boy had probably been carrying part of his own meal all along. “So… how did the fishing go?”

“Got a couple of bites, I think, before the disaster, but didn’t pull in anything. But I’m sure we will soon.”

The silence wasn’t complete. There were vague buzzing, whispering noises from whatever the equivalent of insects were, and some distant shufflings or other noises from the forest outside the perimeter. A plop signaled something that had jumped from the water and fallen back. “How’s Francisco?”

“Fine. Nanos didn’t pick up any toxins immediately, he liked the taste of the thing. If the nanos still say all clear tomorrow, I think we’ve found our first edible native food on Emerald. Keep your fingers crossed.”

He knew that expression, anyway. “Everything I’ve got two of, as my grandfather used to say.” He looked up at the stars again. “This place has long days.”

“And nights. I think the Sergeant said about a thirty-six hour rotation. That’ll take a little getting used to.”

A shuffling sound. “Xander, back home, there were animals – like sharks – that did a lot more hunting at night than in the day.”

He could see the older boy stiffen. “I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe we’d better stay inside at nights.”

“Right now? Oui, that is probably a good idea. But I think we should be able to use a few omnis or other sensors to give us a perimeter monitor. Maybe we can work on that for a while.”

Xander nodded. “Probably for the best. We don’t know whether that … worm-snake is the worst that Emerald has for us.”

From far off came an eerie, booming noise, a cry of something huge that feared nothing in the dark.

After a moment, Tavana stood back up, holding his plate. “No, and we had best act as though there’s a lot worse waiting out there for us.”

Xander followed him inside. All the way in, Tavana felt the prickle of tension, wondering what alien eyes might be watching them.

But once in the shelter, with the bright light and the tough, layered-carbonan weave walls, he felt his spirits finally lifting. Maybe it wasn’t all my fault. “All right,” he said, “we will plan out a perimeter monitor, and maybe a defensive perimeter too, if the Sergeant approves when he gets up. They can make all the noise they want out there. We,” he finished, seeing Xander smiling and Maddox looking up hopefully, “will be getting ready for them in here.”

 

1636: The Chronicles of Dr. Gribbleflotz – Snippet 50

1636: The Chronicles of Dr. Gribbleflotz – Snippet 50

“So, describe this cool demonstration!”

“Well, Mr. Morrison had one of those stands,” he pointed to a chemical apparatus ring stand, “with half a dozen of those round beaker supports arranged along its length. He placed filter papers on each of the beaker rings and put a little bit of wet triiodide onto each filter paper. Then he taped a feather to a pole and waited for the triiodide to dry. Then he touched one of the piles of triiodide with the feather.” Jonathan had grown more and more excited as he described the demonstration. “They all seemed to go off at once and there was a big purple cloud.”

“Do you know how to make this triiodide?” Phillip asked.

Jonathan combed his fingers through his hair as he procrastinated. “Not really,” he finally admitted. “But I know where to find instructions.”

“When you find them, please drop by,” Phillip said, “meanwhile, why don’t I show you around my laboratory?”

“Sure,” Jonathan said.

Phillip laid a hand on the sash window of his fume cupboard. “This is my fume cupboard, in German I call it my abzugschrank, it uses . . .”

Grantville

Tracy walked into Nobili’s Pharmacy and waved to Tino, who was chatting at the till with Katie Jackson. “Could I have a word?” she asked.

“Sure, come on out back,” Tino said.

Tracy followed Tino into the back. “I’ve got Dr. Gribbleflotz’ test run of aspirin, except he calls it Sal Vin Betula.”

“That’s not a problem,” Tino said as he craned his neck trying to look into Tracy’s bag.

“And he insists on dying them blue,” Tracy said as she hauled a large jar out of her bag. “Is that going to be a problem?” she asked as she held up the jar of Dr. Gribbleflotz’ Sal Vin Betula.

Tino opened the jar and picked out a pill into his hand so he could examine it. “That shouldn’t be a problem.” Suddenly Tino sniggered.

“What’s the problem?” Tracy asked.

Tino popped the pill back in with the rest and closed the lid. “I was just thinking that we could advertise them as Dr. Gribbleflotz’ little blue pills of happiness.”

She stared blankly at Tino. “I’m sorry, but I think I’m missing something here.”

Tino grinned. “They’re almost the same color as Viagra.”

Tracy stared at the pills. She vaguely remembered seeing advertisements on TV, but couldn’t remember what the pills had looked like. “I’ll have to take your word for that. Is it going to be a problem?”

Tino shook his head. “We identify different pills and tablets by their size, shape, and color, and although the color is close, the shape is completely different. Now these,” he said as he tapped the jar, “are going to cost ten dollars a pill?”

Tracy nodded. “It’s steep, but that’s the price Dr. Gribbleflotz insisted on charging, and it is half the current black-market price.”

“I know,” Tino said. “But such a high price will just encourage others to get in on the act.” He frowned. “The problem there is, they won’t be able to get fresh supplies of suitable willow bark until next spring. But come once the spring growth arrives, everyone will be jumping on the bandwagon, and if your pet alchemist wants to keep selling his aspirin, he’s going to have to drop his price to remain competitive.” He shook the jar carefully. “How many are in here?” he asked.

“A thousand,” Tracy said.

Tino whistled. “I hope you don’t expect me to pay for it all right now.”

“No, you can take them on consignment.”

Tino nodded. “Thanks. Have you thought about packaging for across the counter sales?”

Tracy had to shake her head. “No. I thought the pharmacies would just fill glass bottles with the pills.”

“At ten dollars a pill?” Tino asked archly. He shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. At that price people are going to be pushing it to buy more than ten at a time, and that’d cost a fortune in glass bottles.”

Tracy wanted to kick herself. Of course glass bottles were going to be expensive. “What do you suggest?’

“You could try a casein-plastic pill box.” Tino smiled. “You could even dye the plastic the same color as the pills.”

“Plastic? How are we going to make that?”

“You’ve never made casein plastic?” Tino shook his head ruefully. “Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll write down some instructions.”

“What’s it going to cost?” Tracy asked, thinking of the royalty they were paying Tino for the cheat sheet to make aspirin.

“This one’s on me,” Tino said with a beaming smile.

Jena

“Hey, Jonathan, where are you? The truck’s unloaded and cleaned,” Ted’s call from the courtyard was easily heard in Dr. Gribbleflotz’ private laboratory.

“I’d better be going,” Jonathan said. He held out his hand to Phillip. “Should I call at any particular time when I have the cheat sheet for the triiodide?”

Phillip shook Jonathan’s hand. “No, you can call any time. I’m usually in my laboratory or checking up on the laborants.”

“Lab rats?” Jonathan said, unsure if he’d heard correctly.

“No.” Phillip smiled. “Laborants. It’s a name for laboratory assistants, although lab rat fits some of the current crop of workers better.”

“Jonathan!” Ted called out again.

“I’d better be going.”

Phillip nodded. “And please, don’t tell anyone that I understand English.”

Jonathan drew a finger across his lips. “My lips are sealed,” he declared. Then with a friendly wave to Dr. Gribbleflotz he hurried off.

“Where have you been?” Ted demanded when he got back to the truck.

“Oh, you know, just having a look around,” Jonathan said.

“Just as long as you didn’t do anything to upset Dr. Gribbleflotz,” Ted said. “I’ve got my bike and things, so you can go now.”

Jonathan grinned. “You’re eager to get rid of me.”

“Yeah, well Dr. Gribbleflotz is the sensitive type, and I don’t want you upsetting him.”

“He seemed okay showing me around his laboratory,” Jonathan said.

“What were you doing in his laboratory?” Ted demanded. “No, never mind that.” He looked at Jonathan earnestly. “Dr. Gribbleflotz really showed you around his laboratory? How did you manage that with your German?”

“My German’s not that bad,” Jonathan protested. That got a wry grin from Ted, and Jonathan realized Ted didn’t know that Dr. Gribbleflotz understood English. Dr. Gribbleflotz’ secret was still safe and it was his duty to keep it that way. “As he showed me around he’d point to things and say their names in German, and I told him the English name in return.”

“You and Dr. Gribbleflotz got on well together then?” Ted asked.

Jonathan nodded. “He’s invited me to visit any time I’m in Jena.” He smiled “I’d better be off before someone starts asking where their APC is. See you around,” he said before hurrying back to the APC.

Later that afternoon, Grantville

Tracy placed her mug of chicory coffee on a heat mat and collapsed on the window seat, exhausted from several hours bent over her industrial sewing machine putting the finishing touches to the latest order of tents. Toby, the household cat, ruler of all he surveyed, lifted his head and looked at her.

“You poor thing, did I disturb you?” she asked as she rubbed the base of his ear. Toby answered by purring and nudging his head into her hand. “It’s so nice and peaceful without the kids, isn’t it?” She read Toby’s “mrrroww” as agreement. “Unfortunately,” she continued, “their Auntie Belle will be bringing them back soon.”

“Yip, yip, yip, yip.”

“Ratter!” Tracy called as she shot to her feet, spilling a disgruntled Toby from her lap. She looked out the window and could see Ratter barking at something in the bush just above the garden. This was unusual behavior for the little Jack Russell, so she hurried over to the ammo draw and grabbed a handful of cartridges for the .410 before unlocking the kitchen gun cabinet. The single barreled shotgun loaded, but the action still broken, she relocked the gun cabinet before setting off to see what had Ratter so excited.

As she approached she heard the wailing of a baby, quickly muffled, coming from the bush Ratter was excited about. With Ratter holding the front, she worked her way around the back. Sneaking up on whoever Ratter had found.