Eric Flint's Blog, page 223

1636: The Chronicles of Dr. Gribbleflotz – Snippet 18

1636: The Chronicles of Dr. Gribbleflotz – Snippet 18

Adrianus stood also and walked Phillip to the door. “You’re still welcome to attend the open lectures,” he said.

“Thank you, Professor Spigelius, I will do that,” he said. Unfortunately, without his mentor’s support Phillip knew he would struggle to get into the lecture theaters for some of the more interesting courses. He’d certainly never have got into Giulio’s three week course of anatomy back in January if the Professore hadn’t arranged a spot for him.

Phillip stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. He paused for a few moments to think, but he was distracted by a sound. He looked down the corridor and saw two men step out of the shadows. One of them was Dr. Piazzono, but the other was old Fabrictus himself — Hieronymus Fabricius. And judging by the sly smiles he and Dr. Piazzono were exchanging, they knew exactly what had happened in Professor Spigelius’ office. Phillip nodded his head in an informal bow to his mentor’s great rival and hurried off in the other direction.

****

Professor Prospero Alpini stood at the door to the courtyard and waited. The man he wanted to talk to had to pass through this way. Right on schedule Phillip Gribbleflotz entered the courtyard. Prospero left his doorway and moved to intercept him.

“Phillip, just the man I was looking for. How did your interview with the new chair of surgery go?”

Phillip grimaced and glanced back the way he’d come. “I think Professor Fabrictus gave Professor Spigelius orders that I was no longer to be admitted into any medical classes.”

“You should be careful about the names you use to describe important members of the faculty, Phillip,” Prospero said. Then he did an about face. “How did you work out the name?”

“Did you ever see the way he smiled when someone complimented Giulio?”

“Oh yes.” Prospero sniggered. “Yes I have, and yes, the nickname fits Hieronymus. Now, what are you planning to do with yourself?” he asked.

Philip shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s clear that as long as Fabrictus is around no one of stature will take me on as their apprentice, but everything has happened so suddenly that I haven’t had time to think.”

As a member of the faculty, Prospero knew that Phillip faced an uphill task completing his medical training at Padua. It wasn’t just Hieronymus having it in for him as Giulio’s last apprentice. There was also the enmity of the many people Phillip had had managed to offend with his loose tongue. Prospero studied the young man. His paranoia over Hieronymus could make it so much easier to carry out his plan.

“Why don’t we go to my office and talk about your options?” Prospero asked. He didn’t give Philip a chance to decline the offer. Instead he put a hand behind his shoulder and steered him towards the exit he’d been waiting by.

****

It was a leisurely walk of little more than ten minutes from the university to Prospero’s office at the botanical gardens. Once there Prospero gently pushed Phillip towards some chairs. “Please, take a seat,” he said before slipping into his favorite chair. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Phillip hesitated, and Prospero smiled. “It’s okay. Battista knows how you like it.”

“Thank you very much. I would like coffee, please.”

“Battista,” Prospero called out. “Coffee for me, and colored water for Phillip.” He turned back to Phillip. “Now, you’re probably wondering why I wanted to talk to you . . .”

Prospero was interrupted by the entry of a matronly woman bearing a tray. She laid a cup and a plate with a piece of cake beside Phillip before doing the same for Prospero, except he only got cookies, and plain ones at that. “Why does he get pampepato and I don’t?” he demanded.

Battista ruffled Phillip’s hair. “He’s a growing boy, and you know it’s not good for you,” she said before leaving.

“Would you like the cake, Professore?”

Prospero turned back to see Phillip offering him his plate. He was tempted. In fact he was sorely tempted. Unfortunately, he knew that even though he might enjoy it while eating it, it would come back to haunt him later. It was better that he stuck to the plain cookies, which wouldn’t disagree with his stomach. “No, no,” he said, waving away the plate. “You have it.” He sighed again. “What did you do to deserve such favored treatment?” he asked. “Battista only serves her special pampepato to especially favored people.”

“It was nothing,” Phillip said. “One of her cousin’s had an ox with bad sores from a badly fitted harness. All we did was let it get flyblown and left the maggots to clean up the wound.”

Prospero realized that the “we” Phillip was talking about were him and the animal doctor he boarded with. “Yes, one does tend to forget that you sometimes help your landlord in his animal practice.” He smiled at Phillip. “That just makes you even more suitable as the replacement physician for the botanical expedition to Dalmatia that Michael Weitnauer is leading. Are you interested? I need an answer quickly, because they’re already in Venice.”

“But I’m not a qualified physician,” Phillip said.

“I know, but you are more than adequately qualified for the job, Phillip. The expedition doesn’t need a fully qualified doctor. It only needs someone capable of dealing with common complaints, and someone who can help Michael cataloging specimens. The fact you know a little about the care of livestock is a valuable extra. So, are you interested?”

“Could you tell me more about what will be expected of me?” Phillip asked.

****

Phillip stood in preparation to taking his leave. He and Prospero had hammered out the details and he had to make arrangements to leave Padua as soon as possible, so as not to delay any longer than necessary the already delayed expedition.

Prospero also stood. He looked at Phillip for a few seconds. “There is something I want you to take with you.” He pulled a folder from his bookshelf and laid it in Phillip’s hands.

Phillip opened the folder and quickly came to understand what it was he held. “But this is the manuscript for Professor Casseri’s last book, his Tabulae Anatomicae,” he said. “I can’t take this.” He tried to give it back to Prospero.

Prospero refused to take it back. “But you must. Hieronymus is already looking for it. I expect he wants to include the plates in his own book on anatomy.

Phillip froze. The sometimes bitter rivalry between his mentor and Hieronymus Fabricius had lasted over thirty years and Prospero obviously didn’t think that Fabricius was going to let the little matter of Giulio’s death get in the way of him carrying on the feud. He flipped open the folder again and leafed through the pages. “These are just proof copies of the plates,” he said. “Even if I take this, Professor Fabrictus will still have access to the plates.”

“But he won’t have access to the text, Phillip,” Prospero shook the manuscript. “This is the only copy of Guilio’s text. It will take Fabricius years to create a text to go with the plates.”

The implication was obvious to Phillip. Professor Fabricius was eighty-three years old and he might not have the years in which to write a new text. It would be something he could do to protect the memory of his mentor. “I’ll take it.” He slid the manuscript into the student’s satchel he always carried. “Thank you for thinking of me for a place on the expedition to Dalmatia, Professore.”

“You are a natural for the expedition, Phillip.”

May, 1616, Near Lake Varna , Dalmatia

The expedition was in a small village about twenty miles north northwest of Vodice, their port of entry, in the south of Dalmatia. The three teamsters responsible for the expedition’s pack animals were gathered around a table drinking and eating. Michael Weitnauer, the expedition leader and botanist, was checking his notes for today’s destination at another table, and Phillip was sitting on a log weaving together long stemmed white flowers.

One of the teamsters had been watching Philip for a while. He turned back to his companions. “That Gribbleflotz is such a waste of space. We should have a proper physician,” Gasparo Luzzatto said. “Not some failed medical student.”

 

The Span Of Empire – Snippet 03

The Span Of Empire – Snippet 03

Behind the Fleet Commander stood a very tall, very lean human, Lieutenant Fflewdwr Vaughan. It hadn’t taken long after attaining her new position for Dannet to realize that she would need assistants, a staff of sorts. Her position in Terra taif was not sufficient to take individuals into service, that almost feudal relationship between the highest of the individual Jao and those who were gathered around them; and being who she was, she would undoubtedly refuse to take humans into service even if she could. But Terra taif’s elders had all but ordered her to make use of those humans who would be of service to the taif. And the one who made it past her disdain and bristly attitude was a certain dour young Welshman from Caernarvon. Caitlin hadn’t had much contact with him yet, but from all accounts he was a good match for the fleet commander in personality and temperament.

Also present were Colonel Gabe Tully, the ground forces commander of the fleet, accompanied by the Ban Chao’s First Sergeant, Adrian Luff; Wrot krinnu ava Terra, one of Terra taif’s elders and her primary assistant (a wily old devil, for a Jao); Brakan and Matto of the Lleix Starsifters elian; Ramt of the Lleix Ekhatlore elian, and Pyr and Lim of the Lleix Terralore elian.

Completing the roster, and standing against a wall flanking the door, were Caitlin’s personal bodyguards.

For many years Caitlin had been assigned a Jao bodyguard; first Banle krinnu ava Narvo, a terrible wretch who had abused her and held her hostage to ensure her father’s cooperation with the occupying Jao, then later Tamt, a staunch ally who stood between her charge and certain death more than once. After it was determined that Caitlin needed more than the single guard, she selected Miller, a jinau veteran of the Lleix campaign, who was unexpectedly amusing as well as efficient. Tamt now officially reported to Miller, but remained assigned to being Caitlin’s closest companion. Her body-shield, as it were. The two were almost inseparable.

Caitlin had never had a close female friend before. Though she had attended college, Caitlin’s father’s status at that time as a notorious Jao collaborator had prevented development of those sorts of relationships. Her close association, first with Tamt and subsequently with Miller, had proven unexpectedly welcome.

Special benches had been provided for the Lleix as their dimensions were rather broader than even the Jao. The four silver-skinned Lleix gazed at her with upswept expectant black eyes, their fleshy aureoles standing at attention like crowns worn over the head on edge from ear to ear. Taller than humans, their vividly brocaded robes were draped properly, which was always of paramount concern to a Lleix, their hands folded in the proscribed most polite fashion. No one outside the Lleix would ever know now, Caitlin thought, that Lim and Pyr had been thoroughly disenfranchised when the Lexington had first come calling, long-time impoverished denizens of the Lleix slum known as the dochaya.

“We have to make a decision,” she said, once everyone was seated.

Across the table from her, Wrot’s eyes danced with enigmatic green fire. One of his ears signaled slight-error.

She sighed. “Or rather, I have to make a decision, but I want your input.” She gazed around the table, gathering their attention, human, Jao, and Lleix. “So far, this expedition has been a failure. We have found nothing but the ashes left behind by the Ekhat. I worry that it won’t get any better if we continue on this heading. The Ekhat have been working their way out along this arm of the galaxy for unknown thousands of years. Quite possibly hundreds of thousands of years. I have to consider the possibility that it might just be best to cut our losses and return to Terra.”

“We have supplies enough to go on for many months still,” Dannet said. She adjusted an already flawlessly placed strap of her Terra-blue harness, then her face with its bold vai camiti, characteristic of her Narvo origins, turned to Caitlin. That Narvo face always gave Caitlin a bit of a pause, reminding her as it did of mad Oppuk krinnu ava Narvo who had killed her brother and ruled Earth with an iron fist for most of her childhood.

Dannet’s head and ears were canted at the angles which communicated unafraid-of-challenge to anyone versed in Jao body-speak. “There are millions of stars in the Orion arm of the galaxy. We have examined only a tiny percentage of them. Sampled, it would be better to say.”

Caitlin flushed and let her own angles answer with the Jao posture bold-intentions. “Yes,” she said clearly, “but we cannot visit any significant portion of them in the time allotted by the Bond for this expedition.”

“You believe they are all dead,” Lim of Terralore said. She bowed her head on its long graceful neck. Her voice was a piping lilt, incongruous for a creature so tall and sturdy. “That is correct?”

“They have all been dead so far,” Caitlin said. Heartbreakingly so, she thought, though a Jao would have trouble making sense of that emotion. They were far too practical. Dead was dead and therefore of no use. Move along to the next world.

“We cannot ally with the dead, and available resources are limited,” she said, trying to think like a Jao so they would understand her reasoning. “We cannot afford to waste time exploring systems unlikely to contain sentient civilizations.”

“Since you want input, I say let’s not give up just yet,” Gabe Tully said, sitting back in his chair and running his hands through his shaggy blond hair. “The Bond gave us a mandate to explore. Despite the odds, we can’t just go skulking back with nothing to show for it.”

He was right, she thought. They needed something to justify this expenditure of resources and manpower. Jao respected results. Mere trying counted for nothing with them.

“We have found two worlds so far that were clearly inhabited by intelligent technology-using species,” Wrot said, “including this latest one where the inhabitants developed space-going technology.” His head with its many service marks nodded. “The probabilities are that other civilizations are definitely out there somewhere. I say we give it a few more tries, and step up the pace so that we look at twenty or more additional systems, jumping, then moving on the moment it appears hopeless, not lingering to take samples and recordings. Out of millions of stars, the Ekhat must have overlooked at least a few.”

“Is it possible the species we saw today is hiding somewhere in this system?” Tully said. “Like the Lleix did?”

“No,” Dannet said. “A large outpost was located by our sensors on the next planet out from the sun, which is too cold to sustain life as we know it without environmental provisions. The blasted remains of their settlement were detected. There’s no sign of any energy signatures or survivors.”

She could dispatch a squad there to check in person, Caitlin thought, but it would just waste more time, and they had none to waste. The Ekhat would attack Earth again as soon as they were ready, one of the Harmony factions, the Melody faction, or even the fanatical Interdict. She had boarded an Ekhat ship once, seen the monsters with her own eyes, which was more than most people on Earth or even Jao could say. She knew firsthand how totally insane–no, unsane–they were. The two that had spoken with her group had killed themselves before their visitors were permitted to leave because contact with lower life forms had rendered them subsequently unfit to exist.

The monsters had tried to exterminate all life on Earth once already. They would be back, in much fuller force the next time. Their last attack had incinerated a million people and rendered a good chunk of China uninhabitable. The next time, Earth might not survive unless they had extra resources to bring to the fight.

Resources it was her responsibility to secure.

“We will go on,” she heard herself say. “We can’t give up until we find what we have come for.”

“More people,” Pyr said. His aureole stood on end. He inclined his sturdy body toward her. His silver skin gleamed with oil.

“More people,” Caitlin agreed. “To stand with us against the Ekhat. To ally with Jao, humans, and Lleix. To exterminate the Ekhat as completely as they seek to do away with us.”

“That is desirable,” Lim said. She inclined her head respectfully. “But is it likely?”

“Not likely,” Wrot said, “but then how likely was it that humans and Jao should come to the Lleix in the hour of their greatest need?”

“Not likely at all,” Pyr said, “but much appreciated.”

“Together, we are stronger,” Caitlin said. She spread her fingers on the gleaming wood table and stared down at them as though they could give her sorely needed answers. “We will find another species and convince them to work with us, and then another after that, and another, until, united, we can stand strong against the Ekhat.”

Wrot placed his hands on the table across from hers. “On to the next framepoint then.”

Heads nodded around the table. Even the Jao had picked that mannerism from the human as a substitute for their affirmation/readiness-to-perform bi-partite posture.

 

Through Fire – Snippet 03

Through Fire – Snippet 03

I felt Simon shake. I won’t say he trembled with fear. It was more like shock, or surprise. “Merde,” he said again. Then in a louder voice, “Alexis. Alexis! Alexis, for the love of God, get her out of here.”

I’d just managed to wriggle upward, to look over Simon’s shoulder. I had no idea who Alexis was, and I’d be damned if I was going to be got out of anywhere. The ballroom was a mess, and I got the impression of violence and blood. The air smelled of burner and flame.

Someone bulky and dark, a stranger, crawled up close to us. He loomed close to us in the darkness, his body a suggestion of the white satin and golden braid constituting the uniform of Simon’s personal guard, and said, “I called my men.”

“Too late. Get her the hell out of here,” Simon said and rolled off me. The stranger reached for me.

“No,” I said sitting up, pulling my hair back from my face. “Simon, give me my burner back.” I had never needed, would never need some person — much less two persons — who were wholly unrelated to me, to take control. I was the one who should take control and save other people. My foster parents had taught me early on that my gifts should be used for the good of others. There were people in danger. I should protect them.

“Go. I can’t fight while you’re in danger. Go,” Simon said. “Alexis, take her.”

He pushed me upward, and before I could resist, Alexis grabbed me around the waist. He was a large man, muscular. There was no hesitation, no pause. He nodded to Simon and loped along, dragging me with him, even as I scrabbled to free myself and protested, “No, you don’t understand. I’d rather fight. I can fight. I’m stronger than–”

“Can’t do anything,” he said. “Can’t fight a mob.” He looked around. “Even my men can’t.”

I wanted to say he was wrong but then I realized I didn’t even know where the threat was coming from or against whom to retaliate and the damn man was pulling me along too fast to let me get my footing, much less get my bearings.

I ground my teeth, tried ineffectually to stop. “Give me a burner.”

But he just pulled me along amid crowds of fighting people. Burners shot this way and that. Alexis seemed to have the supernatural ability to be where no one was, cutting through the crowd, very fast, avoiding the turmoil, ducking before a burner ray flashed through the air where we’d just been. Someone bumped me. Friend or foe I didn’t know and regretted only not having the time to steal their burner.

I could no longer see Simon in the crowd. I smelled blood and fire. I stopped resisting Alexis’ pull. Impossible to fight when I didn’t know whom to fight. I might be able to shoot better than most people, but not when friend and foe rolled over, screaming and fighting. And as for hitting someone, I didn’t have time to identify the people I bumped into, much less to fight all of them. So many people. Fighting all around.

The situation was out of control and I hated being out of control.

Another two explosions, below, getting closer. The nearest dimatough pane cracked, top to bottom. They weren’t supposed to crack. The crystal chandelier fell, bits of crystal flying in all directions.

Alexis said, “Run,” and grabbed my hand and took off. I ran. Nothing else I could do in this. There was nothing to be gained in dying alongside those being killed.

Dead women can’t fight, I thought. First, stay alive, then fight.

Alexis ran into the melee, fast, his arm an iron band around my waist. People careened into me and shot at us. No shot landed. No blow either, beyond the feeling of being bruised and scraped.

He dragged me through what seemed like a concealed door, down a couple of staircases, and onto a dark terrace by the seaside, in the middle of Simon’s gardens.

“Come on,” Alexis said, sounding desperate. He pulled at me. “Trust the Good–Trust the Protector. He says I should keep you safe. He knows what he’s doing, if we leave his hand free.” As he spoke, explosions sounded, coming ever closer. I could hear the barbarous song from the ballroom, faint, like a haunting echo, but drawing near. It seemed to me the sounds of fighting were more muted which, considering the circumstances, was not a good thing.

“But can Simon defend himself in this? And what about everyone else?” He was a dictator. He might be a murderer. But he had been kind to me. He might have loved me.

“We were taken by surprise,” he said. He panted, and it was good to know our race had rendered him out of breath. “I don’t know who our attackers are. We have to escape and reconnoiter. If I could fight effectively, I’d fight. The protector will take care of himself.” He pulled me down a dark path on the palace grounds and clattered down a set of staircases. His hand was too warm, rough, holding me as though it were the most important thing in the world that he take me along. “We’ll leave the Good Man a free hand. He knows what he’s doing. We’ll live to fight another day.”

We ran across an expanse of lawn and down a brick path and up to a terrace where a row of flyers were parked. Simon’s official fleet for his servants, I thought, since the vehicles all looked alike.

Alexis threw me into the passenger seat, got into the driver’s, closed the doors from the control panel. We took off almost vertically.

At once an explosion rocked us, then another.

Alexis said, “Merde.” It was a popular word.

“There’s more than the mob in the palace. Whoever these people are, they’re organized enough to control the skies. We can’t fly away.” He brought the flyer down, almost straight down, but into a grove of trees, well away from the palace. I was impressed. It took training to fly like that. “We won’t be allowed to escape by air. At least… not this easily. And whatever is going on is much bigger than the palace.”

I leaned back on the seat, exhausted, feeling like I should go back and fight, but knowing it was quixotic and not very sane. There was only one of me, even if I felt I should be an army. I couldn’t believe how fast the ball had degenerated into a scene of death and mayhem. And I was starting to think even Simon’s proposal and even accepting it would have been better than this. “Those people who came in. The intruders. Were they carrying heads on poles?” I asked.

“Yes,” Alexis said.

 

Death’s Bright Day – Snippet 27

Death’s Bright Day – Snippet 27

CHAPTER 10

Above Peltry

Adele found freefall very uncomfortable when she was aware of it, but she easily slipped into an existence outside her physical body when confronted with a fresh mass of data to be processed. There was a smile — or at least contentment — at the back of her mind as she began linking Peltry’s communications networks to the Princess Cecile.

“Cinnabar registry ship Princess Cecile to Newtown Harbor Control,” Vesey called. Newtown was Peltry’s capital and main starport. Vesey didn’t have a particular flair for communications as Cory did, but she would be polite, correct, and if necessary extremely patient with the local personnel.

It was usually necessary to be patient with ground control once one got outside the core planets of the Cinnabar and Alliance blocs. Adele had the skill and equipment to take over most port control computers. She could give the Princess Cecile authorization to land and could block other ships from landing or lifting off.

That would often have been easier than dealing with a numbskull on the ground — or waiting for someone to finally wake up in the control booth. It would also tell everyone with a modicum of awareness how great the Sissie’s capabilities were and how dangerous the ship was to anyone with something to hide.

The most Adele had ever done was to set off the tornado warning sirens in the port of Sisleen on Brookshire, a sleepy Friend of Cinnabar. The sirens continued to wind until someone in Port Control responded to the alert signal on the console — which was the Sissie’s request for landing authorization. Adele felt that this would be explained as unconnected computer glitch…but since then, unless there was a specific reason for her to perform as a normal signals officer, she thought it best to leave the task others.

Besides taking over Peltry’s networks, Adele was collecting the contents of official databases — those of the Newtown and Peltry administrations, as well as what passed for the government of the Tarbell Stars. The last was a mare’s nest — or rather, half a dozen mare’s nests which communicated badly or not at all with one another — but Adele was used to that.

The Department of War was a well-organized exception. There was even an attempt at security. Adele’s software had been designed to penetrate Alliance systems. The 5th Bureau data from Grozhinski had specific keys to the Department of War files, but Cory hadn’t required them. A computer capable of guiding a starship through the Matrix could, with the right software, defeat almost any form of encryption.

Cory was sucking in data from the Tarbell Navy. There were at least a dozen ships in the naval harbor separated by moles from the general harbor. The largest vessel was a heavy cruiser, but it appeared to be out of service.

Adele gave the naval material only a passing glance. Cory was fully competent with the process, and his Academy background gave him advantages. She would go over his gleanings at leisure, but she didn’t expect to find anything Cory had missed.

“Princess Cecile, this is Newtown Control,” a female voice announced. “I’ll be able to clear you to land in about five minutes. There’s a freighter scheduled to lift ahead of you, over.”

Cazelet was searching Port Control and the logs of the sixty-odd ships in the general harbor. He had worked all his youth in his family shipping business until his parents fell foul of Guarantor Porra. Cazelet had fled to his grandmother, who had in turn sent him on to Adele Mundy on Cinnabar.

Just as Mistress Boileau had fostered Adele on Bryce, so Adele took responsibility for Cazelet by placing him in the crew of the Princess Cecile. It had been a good bargain for the RCN, and a very good one for Adele herself. Cazelet’s different training meshed well with what Cory had received from the RCN, and the two young men even got along well.

I’ve created a uniquely skilled staff for myself, Adele thought. Without in the least intending to. And they both feel that I’ve saved them, which is true enough but wasn’t part of a plan either.

You could accomplish quite a lot — and do quite a lot of good — without goals. Focusing on a task and doing it well was as much as could be expected of anyone. Adele assumed that must be more difficult than it seemed to be to her.

Adele noticed three small civilian craft — the largest was under two thousand tons — clustered around a hulk. They were in the orbit of Peltry’s outermost moon, about a million miles above the planet’s surface.

From their electronic signatures the ships were barely functional. Adele turned the Sissie’s excellent optical sensors to the largest of the three. The imagery showed it just as decrepit as the electronics implied: one of the ship’s four antennas was a stump, and a yard was missing on two of those remaining. A rocket basket had been welded to the hull beside the stub antenna where it would have the broadest field of fire.

She highlighted the image and checked Daniel’s display on the command console, intending to pin an icon there for him to call up when she alerted him. Daniel was already observing the strange ships, but he had focused on the hulk.

A shaded triangle on his display alerted him that she was echoing his screen. He grinned and said, “Adele, I’m looking at pirates.”

Adele had set the system so that her name cued a two-way link. She said, “I thought that’s what they were. But what’s the hulk?”

When we first met, Daniel wouldn’t have noticed that I was echoing his display, she thought with mild pride. And I wouldn’t have recognized pirates.

“They’re using a junked freighter as a water buffalo,” he said. “They probably towed it through the Matrix from wherever their base is so that they can keep a way on while they’re waiting for a target.”

“Are we going to do something?” Adele said. It wasn’t idle curiosity — she would have a part in any action. Though I don’t suppose I would have to apologize for being curious.

“I’d like to,” Daniel said. “But –”

“Princess Cecile, this is Newtown Control,” said the voice. “You are cleared to land in the outer harbor. A tug will bring you to your berth. Over.”

“But there isn’t time,” Daniel continued, “and it’s not really our business. Not yet at least. Still — can you get me a tight beam to the biggest pirate?”

“Yes,” said Adele, “but I’d be amazed if they had functioning laser or microwave receivers. I certainly don’t see any sign of antennas on them.”

“Then short wave will do,” Daniel said.

Adele adjusted the hailing antenna toward the largest vessel and said, “Go ahead.”

“Unidentified ships,” said Daniel, “this is RCS Princess Cecile. Stand by to be boarded. If you offer resistance, you will be immediately destroyed, over.”

Daniel hadn’t alerted the Sissie’s crew to what he was doing, but the ship trembled as both gun turrets slewed to bear on the pirates. Sun had been monitoring radio traffic. In a moment he would lower the turrets and lock them for landing, but now the plasma cannon were ready to fire.

Lights winked in a corner of Adele’s display. She knew if she checked she would learn that Chief Missileer Chazanoff was arming his weapons too. None of the pirates looked worth a missile, but Chazanoff wasn’t going to miss any chance that was offered.

 

1636: The Chronicles of Dr. Gribbleflotz – Snippet 17

1636: The Chronicles of Dr. Gribbleflotz – Snippet 17

Silence greeted that sally. Everyone turned to Dr. Piazzono to see how he would react. He reacted with quiet fury. He straightened, keeping his eyes on Phillip, and pointed towards the door. “Get out of my lecture theatre and never return.” It was growled out, leaving no one in any doubt that he was angry.

A faint nod from his mentor was enough for Phillip to grab his things and leave. He waited for Giulio in the courtyard just outside the Palazzo Bo. Unfortunately, Giulio walked out in the company of Dr. Piazzono. They were involved in a heated discussion that Phillip felt might be about him, so he kept his distance as he followed them. Eventually the two men separated and Phillip was able to approach Giulio. Giulio turned at Phillip’s footfalls on the paved courtyard. “That was not very well done, Phillip.”

“But bloodletting is wrong,” Philip protested. “You’ve said so yourself.”

“Maybe I have, and I thank you for not bringing that up during your little splat with Dr. Piazzono. But you shouldn’t have compared the actions of a physician to those of an animal doctor.”

“I bet Giacomo Sedazzari loses fewer patients than Dr. Piazzono,” Phillip protested.

“It is not a competition, Phillip,” Giulio said. “And it was very bad of you to bring Paracelsus into the discussion.”

“But he was right,” Phillip protested. “A physician should rid the body of the disease that causes the fever by treating it with the right drugs, not by draining it of blood.”

Phillip was so intent on defending himself that he didn’t notice another member of the teaching staff heading towards them until he realized Giulio was looking behind him. He turned and saw Professor Prospero Alpini, the University of Padua’s head botanist, and director of the Botanical Garden of Padua approaching.

“Prospero, just the person I wanted to talk to. Could you just wait a moment?” Giulio glanced back to Phillip. “How are you going with the specimens for my course on anatomy?”

“I’ve managed to secure the animals you wanted, but there aren’t enough executions scheduled.” Phillip smiled. “Still, it’s winter. We shouldn’t have to wait long.”

“That’s not a very nice attitude, Phillip,” Prospero said.

“Unfortunately though, it is very true,” Giulio said. “Where would we be without the poor who are willing to lend us their dead in return for a fitting burial?”

“Rather short of cadavers,” Prospero admitted. “I hear you’re going to present your next course on anatomy in the public anatomical theater. I never thought I’d see the day that you stepped foot into Fabricius’ anatomy theater.” He turned to Phillip. “What do you think?”

Phillip understood why Prospero was so surprised. It was a remarkable about-face on Giulio’s part. The public anatomical theater in the Palazzo Bo owed its very existence to Professor Fabricius, and in the twelve years since he took over the chair of surgery Giulio had refused to teach in what he considered his rival’s territory. Still, there was a perfectly rational explanation. “There’s been so much advance interest in Professor Casseri’s next anatomy course that there just isn’t enough room in his private theater for them all.”

Giulio smiled at Phillip. “I’ve reserved a place on the second tier with an excellent view for you.”

“Thank you, Professore,” Phillip said. And he was thankful, because he’d been worried that he might miss out.

“You’re not assisting?” Prospero asked.

“Not this time.” Giulio reached out and patted Phillip on the shoulder. “Because the course is being held on university grounds the rector has control over who get to assist.”

“Fabricius strikes again,” Prospero muttered. “He’s never going to give up on his feud with you, Giulio.”

“He’s old, Prospero. Now, I’ve finished the draft of my Tabulae Anatomicae, and I was wondering if you’d be so good as to have a look at it.”

“Of course I’d be happy to look at it for you,” Prospero said. “Shall we go to your office now?”

“Before you go, Professor Prospero,” Phillip interrupted. “Have you had a chance to try the evaporated essence of coffee I gave you?”

“Not yet, Phillip, but I will. I promise.”

Giulio turned to Phillip. “I won’t see you again until we prepare for my anatomy course, until then, do please try and keep out of trouble.”

“Trouble,” Phillip muttered to himself as he walked off. He didn’t get into trouble.

****

Prospero glanced back to check that Phillip was out of earshot before speaking. “What did he do this time?” he asked.

Giulio released a heavy sigh. “He spoke out during a lecture by Francesco.”

“Speaking out isn’t exactly discouraged,” Prospero pointed out.

“In Phillip’s case, it should be actively discouraged.”

“Oh dear,” Prospero sighed. Sometimes Phillip was his own worst enemy. “Do I want to know the details?”

Giulio shook his head. “Francesco was talking about the virtues of bloodletting, and Phillip countered with Paracelsus.”

Prospero winced. Francesco wasn’t a rabid Galenist, but he certainly wasn’t a great fan of Paracelsus. “Enough said. You do realize, Giulio, that if you do manage to see Phillip through the examinations, it’ll be considered amongst your greatest achievements.”

“He’s not that bad,” Giulio protested.

“No, of course not,” Prospero said. “But neither is he a William Harvey or a Giulio Cesare Casseri. Anyone could get men of their ability through the Padua examinations, but one such as Phillip, now that will take a truly great teacher.”

“It will be one in the eye for Hieronymus, won’t it?” A smiled lit up Giulio’s face for a few seconds before he turned back to Prospero. “What’s the story with Phillip’s evaporated essence of coffee?”

Prospero smiled at the memory of Phillip’s enthusiasm when he brought it to him. “He found an untouched cup of coffee I left in the laboratory a few days ago and . . .”

Giulio waved a hand. “No need to continue. Being Phillip, he will have extracted the soluble essence of the coffee and turned it into a powder.”

“He didn’t simply reduce it to a powder,” Prospero said, a little of the outrage he felt entering his voice. “He went one better. He made it into pills.” Prospero shuddered. “One no longer has to suffer the ecstasy of a properly brewed cup of coffee to experience the benefits it can bring. No, all you have to do is take a pill.”

Giulio snorted. “Phillip still hasn’t developed a taste for coffee the way you learned to drink it in Cairo?”

“No he hasn’t. Now, about this book . . .”

Three months later, March 9, 1616, Padua

Things had been going so well. Between Giulio’s mentoring and the Sedazzari family’s acceptance of him, Phillip had felt that his goal was within sight. But now. . .

Phillip staggered into the house and collapsed into the first chair he came across. The noise he made attracted the attention of his landlady, who arrived in the room seconds after he landed in the chair.

“What’s happened?” Francesca Sedazzari asked as she entered the room.

Phillip looked up, the tears falling down his cheeks. “Giulio’s dead.”

“Your mentor at the university? What happened?” Francesca asked as she put her arms around Phillip.

“He died last night, of a fever.”

Phillip felt arms around him. He put his arms around Francesca and buried his face in her shoulder, and let the tears fall.

A few days later

Phillip sat in Giulio’s old office facing the new holder of the recently vacated chair of surgery. He was dressed in his best clothes, and had come with his portfolio of drawings and notes from the various medical lectures he had attended.

“I’m sorry, Signor Gribbleflotz, but any arrangement you had with my esteemed colleague was extinguished by his death,” Adrianus Spigelius said. “If you wish to study medicine at the University of Padua you must first demonstrate your academic credentials, and to date you have not done this.”

Phillip sighed. It wasn’t unheard of for someone to earn a doctorate without first earning a Baccalaureus Atrium, but all the cases he’d heard of had something else going for them, such as family connections, or as in this case with Giulio , apprentice themselves to a suitable mentor. Unfortunately, Giulio had been his mentor. To prove his academic credentials Phillip was going to have to earn a Baccalaureus Atrium. It would take him at least three years to learn the material needed to pass the exams, and in the meantime he wouldn’t have time to attend lectures on the things that really interested him, such as medical botany and iatrochemistry. He got to his feet. “Thank you for your time, Professor Spigelius.”

 

Through Fire – Snippet 02

Through Fire – Snippet 02

“Oh, ma petite. The cause is I have it on good authority they’re mostly empty. The Usaian revolution over in Olympus and Sea York and their territories, is keeping the Good Men fully busy, and costing them more men than they can recruit, unless they start creating people in vats, as they did at the end of the twenty-first century. Until they do that, though, the Usaians are giving them more trouble than they can handle. And since people created in vats still have to grow up, I’d say we have a good fifteen years’ respite.” He looked at me, and his brown eyes danced with unmitigated amusement, like an adult laughing at the preoccupations of a toddler. His body moved seamlessly with the music, even as he smiled at me. “Listen, Zen. I wouldn’t have declared the revolution if I hadn’t thought there were next to no chances of reprisal by the ancien regime, the global might of what used to be the Good Men consortium. I’m a revolutionary, yes, m’amie, but I’m not stupid.”

I gave him a dubious look, but something I’d decided shortly after arriving on Earth was that Simon was not in fact stupid. Truth be told, he might be too smart for his own good. He was certainly very good at keeping Simon safe and sound and at knowing the best means of doing so. And he was completely amoral about it too.

The pressure of his hand on my waist increased fractionally. I let him lead me, as I cast one last glance at the transports on the bronze-gilded sea, bobbing slightly in the current. They’d been there for twenty-four hours, and they’d done nothing. Simon had to be right. He had to. Those transports were air-and-surface. Had they been filled with troops enough to overwhelm the seacity defenses, they’d have flown in, landed and taken over, long ago. They were for show. For intimidation. They weren’t real. I could, at least, trust Simon to see what was a threat to him and what wasn’t.

We danced.

Though I came from a very different culture, born and raised as I’d been in a small and secret lost colony of Earth, as a guest of the Good Man — oh, pardon me, the Protector — I’d been taught to dance to anything that might be played at the ball. This was a waltz, an ancient dance that had once been scandalous. We segued from it to the glide, a modern dance that was considered very difficult. Our bodies moved in unison as though we’d practiced together. Which we hadn’t. We’d simply been created to be good at most things physical. Both of us were made, not conceived, assembled protein by protein in a lab, and were both faster and more coordinated than normal people.

The dance floor filled to repletion with twirling people, as the sun sank completely into the sea. In the darkness that followed, the troop transports became mere black dots on the inky water.

We took a break for drinks and food, then returned to the dance floor. It was in the middle of this dance when Simon said, “Zen, listen, I need to ask you a very important question.”

My whole body tensed, and I stopped, trying to think of a gentle way of refusing his hand in marriage. I owed him so much, and though I wouldn’t marry for such a reason, I also didn’t know what form his displeasure might take if I said no. He was the sole ruler of a vast territory. If he got angry, he might exact terrible vengeance. Besides, my foster parents had raised me to always pay my debts. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, not sure how to refuse him without hurting him, and, more importantly, without inviting his wrath. I couldn’t accept him. I’d been married once. I didn’t love Simon unreservedly, as one should love one’s husband.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said.

And then an explosion rocked us.

At first, I wasn’t sure it hadn’t been part of the music, then the concussion hit, making the floor shake and the entire airy palace tremble and resonate, like a platter that’s been struck a blow with a hard object. From somewhere below came an orange reflection, a bloom of light, immediately extinguished.

Simon stopped completely, his hands on my waist, his brow wrinkling and said, “Merde!”

I cast a look at the sea, but it remained unlit and the darker points of the transports still bobbed on the water.

Another explosion, this one more deafening. Above us, a glistening crystal chandelier swayed. Bits of crystal rained down on couples who lurched to a stop. The orchestra struck another tune but it petered out as only half the members even started playing. People screamed.

A third explosion hit. The palace rocked and Simon wrapped an arm around me and leapt, carrying me with him to the edge of the ballroom, up against the wall. I could smell him. Sweat from our exertions on the dance floor had been joined by something sharper that spoke of fear.

He lay on top of me but not crushing me, his body forming a defensive cover over mine, blocking my view, blocking my movement.

“Simon,” I said, half-protest, half-entreaty. I twisted to get the burner from my ankle, but he had already grabbed it. He pointed it over my head at the ballroom’s main door. “It’s not the armies of the Good Men,” he said.

“No,” I said. I didn’t say damn it, give me back my burner because he was firing it at someone, and I couldn’t really fire with his bulk on top of me. I had no idea why he was protecting me this way. I’d never needed protection. I tried to look around his shoulder, but he put his arm across to hold me in place.

I wasn’t sure if I could knock Simon out. Probably, by sheer force alone. That and I knew he wasn’t plate-armored. But he was as fast as I was, and he might stop my attack midway through. Worse, attacking him would distract him from defending himself and, I suppose, me as well. And knocking him out would leave him vulnerable to attackers. “Damn it,” I said. “Why weren’t you armed?”

He didn’t answer. He was breathing very fast, and he now stank of fear.

“Simon,” I said, “Let me go. I can fight.”

“No,” he said. His voice hoarse. “It’s a mob. They’ll kill you, or worse. It’s my fight.”

A fourth explosion and from outside the ballroom, echoing like it had started somewhere beneath us, came a song. Loud, and inharmonious, it seemed full of threats I only half understood, because it was in the local patois, formed when the city itself had been founded: a mix of archaic French, archaic English, some Spanish words, and a lot of Glaish overlay. Something about setting fire to the world and enjoying the flames. Something about the blood of tyrants.

 

Death’s Bright Day – Snippet 26

Death’s Bright Day – Snippet 26

Cuvier Harbor, Jardin

The signals officer of a corvette didn’t rate a private cabin, but Daniel had turned the captain’s Cruising Cabin over to Adele. It was only a bunk and a terminal just off the bridge so that the captain had a place to sleep for a few minutes when a situation was moving too fast for him to go to his Great Cabin on D Level directly below. On a corvette the Great Cabin was pretty cramped also, of course.

Adele appreciated the kindness. She could work anywhere, but that very focus made her a difficult cabin-mate for anyone else.

Tovera tapped on the hatch. It had to be Tovera because she was in the corridor outside.

“Yes,” Adele called without looking away from her display.

She was determining the best way to access the fire and emergency services of Newtown, the capital of Peltry. They seemed to be wholly private and decentralized, which would make it difficult to take them all out of action if required. Adele didn’t know why she might want to do that, but she never felt that time spent on preparations was wasted.

Tovera opened the hatch. Miranda entered.

“Oh,” said Adele. She blanked her screen by reflex, but there was nothing on it that Miranda shouldn’t see. For that matter, there was nothing on it that anyone was likely to be able to identify, let alone understand, at a glance.

“When Lieutenant Vesey told me that you were here, I thought I’d come find you,” Miranda said diffidently. “I wasn’t serving any purpose on the quay.”

“That was what I thought also,” Adele said. Miranda was easy to be around, which was an unusual thought for Adele. That didn’t really matter: Adele had since childhood cultivated the ability to tune people out. It was a pleasant change, however.

Adele glanced at the real-time panorama which ran at the top of her display. Daniel had assembled his crew on the quay and had informed them from the boarding ramp that the Sissie would not be returning directly to Cinnabar. Instead he would be taking his ship on a dangerous undertaking which had only a small chance of profit. Those spacers who wanted out would have their passage paid back to Cinnabar with full wages and a bonus.

Daniel then shook the hand of each and every spacer who signed on. The line of those waiting to reenlist hadn’t yet finished moving past the formalities to Daniel.

“Did anybody decide to go home?” Adele asked. Her first impulse had been to check the feed from the terminal on which Vesey was enrolling spacers and compare the number to the original crew list, but that would be discourteous.

I mustn’t disappoint my mother’s spirit, Adele thought wryly. She didn’t believe in an afterlife: all that remained of Esme Rolfe Mundy was in Adele’s memory. But Adele had a very good memory.

“Several hung back at first,” Miranda said, “but they seemed to be joining as the line moved.”

She leaned over Adele’s shoulder to peer at the flat-plate screen. “That’s Brausher on the end, isn’t it?” Miranda said, pointing. “She said she was going back because her daughter’s pregnant. But she’s in the line now.”

Miranda straightened and moved back slightly. “It’s going to be like this always in our marriage, isn’t it?” she said. “Daniel shipping out and me staying behind.”

“I suppose so,” Adele said. She almost added, “I hope so,” but she didn’t need to say that. It probably wouldn’t have surprised Miranda, though.

“This week here on Jardin has been wonderful,” Miranda said with her face to the outer bulkhead. “Jardin really is a paradise, just as my father said.”

Adele thought back on her week, spent mostly aboard the Princess Cecile. She had sifted Grozhinski’s data and interfiled it with the material she had brought from Cinnabar. At each stage she had considered what the new situation meant for Daniel’s existing plan, and what further information she should try to gather when they reached Peltry.

“Yes,” Adele said. She smiled faintly. “It’s been a good week.”

“Adele, I have a personal question,” Miranda said. “You don’t have to answer me.”

“Yes,” said Adele. Of course she didn’t have to answer a question. Under most circumstances refusing to would be more revealing than an answer, however.

The last figures on the harborfront had reached Vesey. Only Brausher remained to sign the crew list.

“Adele, do you ever worry that I’m going to take Daniel away from you?” Miranda said. “From you, from the Princess Cecile; from the RCN?”

“No,” said Adele. Her frown was almost as slight as her smile of moments before. “I don’t think about the future, to be honest, just the task in front of me. But even if I did think about the future, I wouldn’t — Miranda, I don’t worry about Cinnabar falling into the sun either.”

Miranda laughed. “Yes, that is silly, isn’t it?” she said. “Daniel will never leave the RCN, so of course you wouldn’t worry about that. But I won’t try, Adele. I wouldn’t want to do that even if I could.”

Daniel was addressing the newly enrolled crew again from the boarding ramp. Adele could listen if she chose to, but she knew the sort of inspiring talk Daniel gave his crews at times like these.

“I would miss Daniel,” Adele said. “If he died, if he left for any reason. But I think I would miss the community even more.”

Her lips smiled. Miranda flinched; she must have seen the sadness beneath Adele’s expression.

“Daniel isn’t the family of the Princess Cecile,” Adele said. “But the community wouldn’t exist without him to hold it together. And I would miss that very much. I’d never had a real family until I met Daniel on Kostroma.”

The crew began boarding in a jaunty column, talking and apparently singing as they trotted up the ramp.

“But you grew up at your home until, until the conspiracy, didn’t you?” Miranda said.

Until my parents and sister were executed on the orders of Speaker Leary, Adele added in her mind. Aloud she said, “My father cared very much about political power; my mother cared about the family name and prestige. I didn’t care about either of those things, and they didn’t care about me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Miranda whispered.

The words shocked Adele. She said, “Don’t be. I have everything a person could want. Well, a person like me.”

To change the subject and because she had just remembered it, Adele opened the cabinet beneath her seat and brought out the metal-plated glove. “Can you tell me what this is, please?” she said. “I found it in the trousers Daniel was wearing in the cave, stuffed into his pocket on top of the goggles.”

Miranda took the object. The iron plating on the upper side was a quarter of an inch thick, so it was quite heavy.

“I don’t…” Miranda started. Then, “Oh, yes — in the grotto. We’d found what must have been the body of one of the early explorers. Just then Timothy pulled up the ladder and I forgot all about it. Daniel must have stuck this glove in his pocket.”

“I see,” said Adele. “Do you remember anything about the body?”

Miranda made a moue. “Not really. There was no light except the glowworms, remember, and we didn’t have long. I think it was just the clothing left that the glowworms had deposited iron on.”

Adele turned the object over. The bare underside was made of some tightly-woven synthetic.

“The reason I wondered,” Adele said, “is that there are only three fingers. It doesn’t seem to have been a human glove.”

“I don’t understand,” Miranda said.

“It’s a big universe,” Adele said as she returned the glove to the drawer. “And a very old one.”

Tovera tapped on the hatch and opened it enough to look in. “Six would like to see his wife before we lift,” she announced. “Which is going to be soon.”

Adele got up. “I’ll walk with you to the bridge,” she said as she gestured Miranda to the hatch.

Next stop, Peltry in the Tarbell Stars.

 

The Span Of Empire – Snippet 02

The Span Of Empire – Snippet 02

“They didn’t leave anything,” Caitlin replied in a grim tone. “It’s beginning to seem utterly hopeless. I think they’ve already scoured this galactic arm from here on in.”

“We found the Lleix,” Tully said. He bent to pick up a shard of shattered observation window and turned it over in his gloved hand. “They survived, so there must be more species out there.”

“The Lleix had been fleeing and hiding for over a thousand years,” Caitlin said, “and even so the Ekhat found them again and again. If we hadn’t come along when we did, they would have exterminated them at Valeron in that last raid.”

Which would have been a terrible loss, Caitlin acknowledged to herself, picking her way through the rest of the debris. The Lleix, with their amazing capacity to adapt and learn new languages and concepts, were staunch and valued allies now. The Jao/Human taif that ruled Earth had allotted them temporary living space on the Colorado high plains and promised to relocate them to a new world all their own. But so far, on this exploratory expedition, the only habitable worlds they’d found that might have once harbored intelligent life had already been savaged by the Ekhat, every one of them reduced to lifeless cinders like the one overhead at the moment.

Tully turned back to her. “What now, Madam Director?”

What now, indeed? she thought. She was in charge of this disheartening and fruitless chase. What had seemed an exciting opportunity to acquire new allies back on Earth when Preceptor Ronz first approached her now was only tedious, often depressing duty, just going through the motions until they could justify giving give up and returning home.

“Document what we can,” she said, resisting the urge to sigh. “Wrot has taken a shuttle and tech crew to the planet, but I don’t think they’ll find even this much there. From the readings we took in orbit, it doesn’t even have a proper atmosphere left, just a bit of out-gassing from its interior.”

“It’s not your fault,” Tully said. “The Bond laid this course out for us. We’re acting on the best information we have.”

“I know,” she said. “We’ll gather as much data as we can here, then move on to the next system.”

“Even though there most likely won’t be anyone home?” Miller asked.

“It will just take one inhabited world to make this expedition a success,” she said, though she feared she was right, and it was so heartbreaking to follow the scourged trail left by the Ekhat, finding nothing but once verdant planets burned to ashes, a holocaust of dreams, and slaughtered children. “If we can discover even one advanced species, we’ll increase our own chances of prevailing against the Ekhat.”

“And we just might save one more planet and one more people from becoming nothing more than a haunted memorial,” Tully said in a remarkably poetic utterance.

Caitlin looked at him in surprise. “We can try.”

That was reason enough to go on, she decided. To try and keep one more planet from becoming nothing more than an orbiting gravestone for a nameless race.

****

Senior Tech Kaln krinnu ava Krant prowled the surface of the dusty moon, taking samples and readings while others penetrated the building and its lower levels. Her nap crawled with distaste. Waterless environments always affected her like that. The Jao had evolved in the seas of some now-nameless world and always felt most at home when swimming. She gazed out at the arid, dead landscape. No one had ever swum here, even before the Ekhat had blasted this outpost to ashes. She could not understand a species that could be happy under such circumstances.

But then the Lleix were not swimmers either, yet they had made good lives for themselves, despite the pursuit of the Ekhat. One of the great unstated truths of the universe was that there was no one way to live best. You only had to look at humans and Lleix to understand that. Even the many Jao clans, called kochan, varied in their approach to life and living well. And now that her kochan, Krant, was becoming more prosperous, their two home worlds were changing. Jao, who did not adapt well to change, were being challenged by the alliance to stretch their minds, to see possibilities where none had occurred before. That was mostly the influence of the humans, who pursued ollnat as rigorously as Jao had always pursued pragmatism.

It was her secret that she was attracted to ollnat, that doing things in a new way made life more interesting. She had kept that part of herself hidden with some difficulty until Krant had come in contact with humans and their way of thinking. Humans valued ollnat with the same devotion that Jao strove to be of use. She actually felt at ease among them, since she had come to understand that.

Kaln collected samples of the blasted buildings with her gloved hands, stowing them in her pouch, then recording images on her scanner. This had been a frivolous establishment, set out here on the surface, when it would have been much more efficient to locate all facilities under the moon’s surface, but she supposed, like humans, the view had beguiled them–back when there was a living planet above them in the sky and not a lifeless ball of scorched rock.

She directed Giln, one of her underlings, to retrieve several corpses from the structure, including one of the apparent young as well as adults. They would be stored on the Lexington, command ship of their fleet, for eventual transport back to Terra where scientists could pore over them and glean what could be learned from the dead flesh of these victims. She wondered if they had even seen the Ekhat coming. She chewed on that as her subordinate, aided by a couple of Colonel Tully’s jinau troops, carefully loaded the corpses into body bags. Or had the world just ended for them between one heartbeat and the next in savage blasts of solar plasma?

She had fought in two major battles against the Ekhat, the first destroying or critically damaging three of Krant’s treasured ships and killing most of their crews; then in a second, in the magnificent Lexington captained by then Terra-Captain Dannet krinnu ava Terra herself. Against all odds, Dannet had prevailed against five Ekhat ships in a single battle, an amazing feat, never before equaled. Now, like Kaln, Dannet was assigned to this expedition. The Terra-Captain’s new rank was Fleet Commander, putting her in command of the entire fleet–more like a small fleet, if you counted all the auxiliary ships–that had been assigned to the expedition. The Fleet Commander was still on the Lexington, but no longer as the captain. Instead, in the human way of phrasing it, the big ship now served as the commander’s flagship.

Dannet was all Jao in her devotion to duty and being of use. She had been a gift to Terra from the great kochan of Narvo, in recompense for the actions of a crazed scion who had abused his authority as Terra’s first Jao governor, and she had since proved a valuable one indeed. Her attitudes concerning duty and service provided an exemplar to both Jao and humans within Terra taif. And her astounding combat record as the captain of the Lexington only increased her stature.

Kaln broke off her thoughts when the body bagging was completed. She motioned to Giln and the two of them followed the other techs into the wrecked facility to record additional images and see what little was left of these unfortunate beings. There would not be much, she feared. There never was. The Ekhat were dreadfully efficient. It occurred to her that this was almost Jao-like.

****

Back on board the Lexington, Caitlin called a meeting in one of the conference rooms on the same deck as her stateroom. They’d been at this for almost a year, visiting dead system after system, but she still felt like a fraud whenever she gave orders in her role as the official holder of oudh on the expedition. Three years before, when the Lexington had made first contact with the Lleix, a misunderstanding instigated first by Kaln and then perpetuated by Wrot had fraudulently presented her as “Queen of the Universe,” in charge of all humans and Jao. That had been embarrassing enough; but now her responsibilities were real and she often felt like a child playing dress-up.

One by one the senior members of the fleet entered the room and sat down. The mood was somber as the room filled. Fleet Commander Dannet krinnu ava Terra entered first, followed by the captains of all four of the Lexington-class battleships and the commander of the support ship fleet. Among these was Krant-Captain Mallu krinnu ava Krant, captain of the Krant warship. It was officially listed in Krant’s shiplists as Krant Ship 3547, but to everyone except perhaps Fleet Commander Dannet it was known as Pool Buntyam. The humans had even christened it so when its construction was complete. Its sister ship, another Lexington-class battleship, in the shiplists as Krant Ship 3548, was Bab the Green Ox. This was also the legacy of the same moment of low humor perpetuated by Kaln that had resulted in Caitlin’s regal title.

 

Shadow’s Blade – Snippet 35

Shadow’s Blade – Snippet 35

CHAPTER 12

Moments later, the helicopter set down on the road. The doors opened and four men clambered out, ran to the side of the road with their heads down and started up the hillside after us. Two of them — one with the rifle and another carrying a pistol — were big, broad as well as tall, with military-style buzz cuts. They wore navy windbreakers over powder blue dress shirts and dark slacks, reminding me of security men I had seen at the home of Regina Witcombe, a billionaire financier who also happened to be a weremancer and a friend of Saorla. Now that I thought about it, Witcombe was one of the few weremystes I knew of who could afford an MD helicopter.

A third man, who I assumed must be the pilot, since the helicopter stood empty, was smaller, wiry. Of the four, he seemed most comfortable blazing a trail across open desert.

The fourth man, as Emmy had anticipated, was our weremyste vampire, the man I had seen in my scrying at Burt Kendall’s pawn shop, and, I was sure, the man Gracie had escaped at the Burger Royale. He wore a tweed jacket, a dress shirt and tie, and black slacks. He also had on a fedora that matched the jacket, but I could see that his hair was silver. I thought he also had a neatly trimmed silver beard, but I couldn’t be certain. His face was little more than a flesh-colored smudge of magic. I hadn’t seen such power on a weremyste in years.

Fortunately, neither he nor the security guys seemed to have anticipated on off-road experience. They wore dress shoes and were having trouble keeping up with the pilot, who appeared more at ease in the wild.

We made good progress for the first five minutes or so, but then Zach started to slow down. Emmy wasn’t doing much better. Against my better judgment we stopped.

“I can’t carry both of them,” I said to Gracie, thinking that my voice was low enough to escape the kids’ notice. I was wrong.

“You don’t have to carry me,” Emmy said, glowering. I wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t seem to like me very much. “I can walk.”

“All right.” I turned to Zach, who was breathing hard, his cheeks flushed almost to glowing. “You want to get on my shoulders, kiddo?”

Emmy had taken her mother’s hand and was climbing again, but she glared back in my direction. “Don’t call him that.”

“Sorry.” She had already faced forward again, and I don’t think she heard me. At least now, though, I understood her hostility: She didn’t want me acting like I was their dad. “You want me to carry you?” I asked Zach again.

He nodded. I picked him up, swung him onto my shoulders, and resumed my climb. It was harder with the kid, but not much. He didn’t weigh a lot, and frankly having a weremyste vampire at my back was all the motivation I needed.

We were still some distance from the top when another ball of fire burst from the ground a couple of feet in front of Gracie and Emmy. The girl let out a scream, and Gracie halted, clutching her daughter to her.

“That’s far enough, I believe,” came a voice from behind us.

I stopped, my shoulders aching, sweat soaking my shirt. I wanted to urge Gracie on, but it seemed she had decided to face her pursuers here, and since I didn’t know them as well as she did, I followed her lead. At least for now.

The security guys and pilot had stopped as well. The only person moving was the older man, who stepped past his companions and halted maybe ten yards below us on the incline, one foot ahead of the other. He wasn’t breathing hard, nor did he appear to have broken a sweat.

Magic stirred the warm air. A few feet to my left, a stone about the size of a television lifted off the ground and flew toward the man. Several feet short of him, it exploded, as it pulverized by some unseen fist.

“I expected more from you, Gracie,” he said, his words shaded with that faint British accent I’d first heard in my scrying the day before. “That’s the name you prefer, isn’t it? Gracie, rather than Engracia. So very American. In any case, after your performance at the restaurant, naturally we warded ourselves against such a spell.”

I lifted Zach off my shoulders and set him on the ground, the motion drawing the gentleman’s gaze. Zach sidled closer, until he stood just behind me.

“Mister Fearsson, if I’m not mistaken.”

“That’s right. Who are you?”

He smiled, and even seeing him through the magic, I marveled at what it did to his features. Under any other circumstance, I would have thought him the friendliest man on the face of the earth. The crooked grin, the crinkling of the skin at the corners of his bright blue eyes, the hat and silver hair and beard. He looked charming.

“Lionel Fitzwater. Perhaps you know of me.”

“No, I can’t say that I do.”

If this disappointed or angered him, he gave no indication. He shrugged and said, “No matter. You need do nothing more than stay out of my way. I have no quarrel with you for the time being. We want Gracie and her children. Whether you live or die is entirely up to you.”

“Well, I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you take Gracie or her kids.”

The smile faded. “Very well.”

That was all the warning I had. Something hit me in the chest with the force of a bullet, though neither of the security guys had fired a weapon. If I hadn’t been warded, I’m sure I would have died. As it was, I was thrown backwards. I landed on top of Zach, who let out a cry.

I felt magic again, but nothing touched me. I rolled off of Zach, my chest aching, and helped him up.

“You okay?” I asked, searching his eyes.

He nodded.

“Good boy.”

I stood, moving stiffly. The security boys and pilot were climbing to their feet as well. I assumed that Gracie had retaliated for the attack that hurt Zach, and I had the feeling that whatever spell she used had done nothing at all to Lionel.

Fitzwater smiled again, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes, and the effect was entirely different. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” he muttered. I’m not sure his companions heard him. But they certainly did when he said, “Michael would you come here please?”

One of the security guys — the one with the pistol — started up the hill.

“No,” Gracie whispered. Then, “Kids, run! Straight up the mountain!”

The kids did as they were told. Gracie turned to run as well.

I cast to give them time. The guard, his leg, and the rock in front of him. The rock hit his shin; he stumbled, fell.

That would buy us a few more seconds. I strode after Gracie and the kids.

Another spell brushed past me and hit Zach in the back. He fell with a little grunt. Gracie whirled at the sound. Before she could run back to him, I grabbed him around the waist, picked him up, and tucked him under my arm, barely even breaking stride.

“Get up here!” Fitzwater said, a snarl in the words.

We didn’t have much time, and I had no idea where we could go to escape what I knew was coming.

“Halt!” he shouted at our backs.

Gracie didn’t slow and neither did I.

“I prefer to take both of them, Gracie, but really it’s only the one we want. Her, and the item you took. As far as I’m concerned, the other child is expendable.”

At that, she did stop. Emmy took another step, yanking on her mother’s arm. But Gracie wouldn’t move. I saw her shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. Then she turned.

I did the same. I set Zach on his feet once more, but then took hold of his tiny, sweaty hand.

My life, I knew, was forfeit. Gracie, Emmy, and the knife were the prizes. The item you took . . . If we survived this, Gracie and I were going to have a heart-to-heart. But that was for later.

Fitzwater had already made clear that he didn’t give a damn about me. And I had no doubt about Gracie’s priorities. She would help me, but only if she could do so without endangering the kids. She wouldn’t have stopped had Fitzwater threatened to kill me. To save Zach, though, she could gladly give her own life, much less mine.

 

Death’s Bright Day – Snippet 25

Death’s Bright Day – Snippet 25

She paused and swallowed before saying, “The servants will be punished in whatever fashion you direct, Captain Leary.”

“Oh, no!” said Miranda.

Daniel thought about what his father would do if faced with a similar situation. Corder Leary wasn’t cruel, but he had been known to punish a mistake brutally to make others more careful in similar circumstances.

“Brutally” didn’t mean the same thing on civilized Cinnabar that it might here on Jardin, of course.

“I don’t think any punishment is called for here,” Daniel said. “It appears that your servants made the same mistake you did, after all. As I did, for that matter: trusting the son of the house.”

“I am so sorry,” Carlotta said. “So very sorry.”

“I gather that Timothy daSaenz attempted to lose Captain Leary and his wife in the depths of the cave,” Adele said. “Where they wouldn’t be found even when we learned what he had done. He didn’t realize that Captain Leary had a pair of RCN goggles which not only allowed him to see in the dark –”

She raised the goggles in her right hand. She must have found them in the cargo pocket of his trousers.

Where I’d forgotten them.

“– but also have an inertial compass which allowed him to retrace his steps precisely.”

“Oh!” said Miranda. “I didn’t realize…”

Her voice trailed off. She looked down at Daniel in dawning surprise.

“No, that’s wrong,” Daniel croaked. “I’d forgotten they were there. I just went back to childhood when Hogg was teaching me always to know where I was in the woods and how I’d gotten there.”

Adele’s face went blank, but Miranda’s expression was softening again.

“I went right back to basics,” Daniel said. “I learned about goggles in the Academy, but the shock of being dumped in that hole — I just grabbed the first way out.”

“And we did get out,” said Miranda. “We came straight back to the entrance. I was never in doubt.”

She bent and kissed Daniel on the forehead. He stiffened, but her lips were as soft as a warm breeze.

“Oh, did I hurt you?” Miranda said in concern.

“No, no,” said Daniel. “Not you. I flinched for what it might be, is all.”

“I’m so sorry.” Carlotta repeated into the handkerchief.

“How is, ah, Timothy doing?” Daniel said. He was curious, but he was also trying to change the subject.

“He’ll live,” Tovera said as she walked to them from the Medicomp. She had put her sub-machine gun back into its nest in the attaché case. “He may even be able to feed himself one of these days. He’s not going to walk, though, and I’ll give long odds that he won’t be able to speak complete sentences.”

Carlotta made no sound except a gasp. She looked as though lightning had struck her.

“We can’t be sure of that so soon!” said Miranda. “It’s far too early to give a prognosis.”

Tovera shrugged and smiled. Fortunately Carlotta wasn’t looking at the smile. “Maybe so,” Adele’s servant said. “I’ve read a lot of Medicomp displays over the years, though. You’ve got quite a wrist on you, mistress.”

Carlotta sobbed. She ran to the Medicomp and hugged the cabinet. Miranda joined her, putting her arms around the shoulders of the older woman.

Daniel grimaced. Why did Tovera have to say that? But that wasn’t a question you could usefully ask a sociopath.

And — Daniel grinned, mildly embarrassed at doing so — the truth was, he was just as glad that Timothy was in a bad state. Though he was sorry that Miranda apparently felt it was on her conscience.

Tovera grinned back at Daniel. That sobered him immediately.

Adele said, “I’ve checked the house security system. Carlotta wasn’t informed that the Princess Cecile had landed. Today Timothy told her that he was going to a club in Cuvier and that he might not return to the manor until tomorrow. He has stayed in town overnight in the past.”

Daniel almost shook his head but thought better of it. He’d been feeling better ever since he woke up, but that was a low standard. It would be some time before he could do normal things without remembering what had just happened.

“Do you think it was really about the caves?” Daniel said. “That seems a strange thing to care so much about.”

He pitched his voice low as Adele had hers, though Carlotta and Miranda seemed engrossed in conversation. Neither was now crying.

Adele shrugged. “I don’t have enough information to be sure,” she said. “Nothing we know suggests that Carlotta is wrong, however. And it was the caves that Miranda’s father spoke of.”

“Sure, but he really meant — ” Daniel said.

He stopped himself. He didn’t know what Captain Dorst had really been thinking of. Certainly he might have been mourning the beautiful heiress or even his own lost youth when he spoke of Starscape Caves. But it was at least possible that the caves and their glowworms had hit him as hard as they later did Timothy daSaenz.

“The glowworms are interesting,” Daniel said at last. “They’re unique in my experience, but then a lot of life forms are unique. That’s part of the marvel of being a spacer. But glowworms weren’t anything special to me.”

Miranda and Carlotta rejoined them. Each had an arm around the other’s waist.

“Daniel,” Miranda said. “Our plan was that I should return to Cinnabar when you left for your other business. That’s correct?”

“Yes,” said Daniel, wondering where this was going. If Miranda insisted on staying aboard the Princess Cecile after this experience, well, he couldn’t blame her. “There’s plenty of traffic so we ought to be able to find suitable passage for you. But if you don’t –”

“I want to stay here,” Miranda said firmly. “Carlotta and I have talked it over. There’s nothing I need to do on Cinnabar and, well, I’d like to see more of Jardin. And the caves.”

Daniel opened his mouth, then shut it. After a moment he said, “I think that’s a good idea. And of course you can easily return to Cinnabar if you recall there’s something you need to do after all.”

Hogg looked at Carlotta and said, “You think that’s safe, young master?”

“I think you’re forgetting who saved whom in the cave, Hogg,” said Miranda sharply. “But yes, it’s quite safe.”

Carlotta had drawn herself straighter at Hogg’s question. She smiled sadly and said, “It is right that the question be asked, Master Hogg. But yes, it is safe. Miranda is now the only child I have.”

Adele coughed. “I think I should go back to the ship and inform the officers of the situation in person,” she said. “Will you and Miranda be returning with me?”

“No, I’ll stay the night — ” he looked up at Carlotta ” — if?”

“Of course,” she said.

“Tomorrow we’ll see how I feel,” Daniel said. “I’ll be back for a time, anyway. What do we have for transportation?”

“There are aircars up to ten-place and ground vehicles,” Carlotta said. “Also drivers. Anything you wish is yours.”

“Can we have the one I drove up from the cave in?” Tovera said unexpectedly. “I engaged the automatic stabilizer and it was very good.”

“Timothy’s car?” said Carlotta. “Yes, of course. Especially that.”

“I’ll stay,” said Hogg. He wasn’t asking a question. The stocked impeller was still slung over his right shoulder.

“Yes,” said Carlotta. “You may sleep in your master’s chamber, if you wish.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Miranda. “This is still our honeymoon, or it will be when Daniel recovers a little more.

“Come along, Tovera,” Adele said. “I don’t think we’re needed here.”

Daniel thought he saw the ghost of a smile on Adele’s lips.