A Matter of Oaths

A
Matter of Oaths

Helen
S. Wright

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce
this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

Copyright © Helen Wright 1988, 1990

Cover artwork © Helen
S. Wright 2009

 
from an original drawing by Evelyn Thomas

The web is based on a simple concept:
a direct link between mind and machine. The systems of a ship become an
extension of the webber’s body. But this simplicity is deceptive, and will
vanish the first time you enter the shub. Breathing a liquid does not come
naturally, and is only the first step…

When you have mastered survival in
the shub, you will be ready to take the next step. Through sockets at your neck
and wrists, your nervous system will be linked to the ship, and to the other
men and women who share the web with you. Through the sockets at your wrists,
you will communicate with your web-mates. Through the socket at your neck, you
will help to control and monitor the ship. It will take several months to learn
this use of your nervous system, and several years before you can claim to have
mastered the techniques…

Having a web is a privilege and a
responsibility. You must never forget that your web-mates’ lives depend on your
self-control. Leave all other concerns behind you when you step into the shub.
Forget your body. Focus only on control on the web…

I solemnly dedicate myself to the
Guild of Webbers. On my honour, on my life and on any lives I have to come, by
all that is sacred to me, I swear:

That
my loyalty is to the Guild before all others, and then to those to whom the
Guild owes loyalty.

That
my obedience is to the law of the Guild before all other laws, and then to the
laws to which the Guild gives obedience.

That
I will serve the Guild to the best of my ability, and in every way that I am
able to serve.

That
I will cherish each member of the Guild, respecting their beliefs and taking
responsibility for their well-being.

That
I will keep this oath so long as I shall live.

We solemnly dedicate ourselves to the
worlds that bore us and to the people of those worlds. On our honour, on our
lives and on any lives we have to come, by all that is sacred to us, we swear:

That
our loyalty is to our people before all others, and then to the Emperors who
govern our people.

That
our obedience is to the law of the Guild before all other laws, and then to the
just laws to which our people give obedience.

That
we will serve our people to the best of our ability, in every way that we are
able to serve, respecting their beliefs and taking responsibility for their well-being.

That
we will cherish each member of the Guild, respecting their beliefs and taking
responsibility for their well-being.

That
we will keep this oath so long as one of us lives.

I, the Emperor Julur, solemnly dedicate
myself to the worlds of the Old Empire and to the people of those worlds. On my
honour and on my immortality, I swear:

That
my loyalty will be to my people before all others.

That
my laws will be just.

That
I will serve my people to the best of my ability, in every way that I am able
to serve, respecting their beliefs and taking responsibility for their
well-being, and causing no harm to any unless for the protection of the Old
Empire.

That
I will cherish the Guild of Webbers, and each member of the Guild, respecting
their beliefs and taking responsibility for their well-being, causing harm to
no member of the Guild unless for the protection of the Twin Empires.

That
I will keep this oath forever, or forfeit the loyalty of the Guild of Webbers.

I, the Emperor Ayvar, solemnly dedicate
myself to the worlds of the New Empire and to the people of those worlds. On my
honour and on my immortality, I swear:

That
my loyalty will be to my people before all others.

That
my laws will be just.

That
I will serve my people to the best of my ability, in every way that I am able
to serve, respecting their beliefs and taking responsibility for their
well-being, and causing no harm to any unless for the protection of the New
Empire.

That
I will cherish the Guild of Webbers, and each member of the Guild, respecting
their beliefs and taking responsibility for their well-being, causing harm to
no member of the Guild unless for the protection of the Twin Empires.

That
I will keep this oath forever, or forfeit the loyalty of the Guild of Webbers.

Specification

Crew

“Now, there’s pretty,” Rallya said appreciatively, seeing
the young webber who had paused just inside the entrance to the Guildhall
rec-room. He must be recently arrived in the zone; otherwise she would have
noticed him before, with his distinctive curly hair, contrasting shades of grey
and brown, and that short, svelte figure.

“He is, isn’t he,” Vidar agreed, turning to look. “Young
for you though, Rallya,” he added, grinning at her with the immunity of ten
years of close friendship.

“Looking isn’t touching,” Rallya defended herself. She
leaned back, tipping her seat onto two legs, to get a better view. The stranger
was looking around as if a familiar face would be welcome but unexpected. He
noticed her continued scrutiny and nodded a courtesy to her rank, the cocky
little scut, before moving out of sight behind a group of juniors.

“Anybody else notice his insignia?” Joshim asked.

Rallya nodded. The stranger wore them on his upper left arm,
the only distinguishing marks on his plain grey tunic. He had a Second’s badge
and two Oath markers but no ship’s patch: a shipless Second who had crossed the
Disputed Zone once.

“Looks young for a Second,” Vidar commented. “Probably just
made it before he came across and that wasn’t so long ago.”

Joshim shook his head. “That second Oath marker isn’t new,
nor is the Second’s badge,” he pointed out. “It might be worth talking to him.”

Rallya looked at him in tolerant amusement. “We need a
qualified First, remember? Not a pretty Second to feast our eyes on.”

“We’ve eliminated all the available Firsts and most of the
unavailable ones,” Joshim argued. “Unless we want to sit in dock for the
foreseeable future, we’ll have to find a Second ready to be bumped up.”

“We haven’t talked to
Chennya
’s
First yet,” Rallya objected.

“Now who’s looking for pretty?” Vidar teased. “Anyway, she’ll
be on patrol for another six days.”

“And
Vasir
’s Three
are courting her,” Joshim added. “Their First accepted the Captain’s berth on
Hashil
.”

Rallya frowned. She wanted Lina,
Chennya
’s First, a skilful webber with the reputation for being a
steady influence in the web-room, and with the potential for command rank in a
few years’ time. However, if she was being courted openly, etiquette prevented
Bhattya
’s Three from making an approach.
At least until she was settled with
Vasir
,
Rallya corrected herself, and
Bhattya
could not wait that long. They would have to let her know, discreetly, that
they were waiting to make an offer if she turned
Vasir
away. There was no doubt that she would welcome such an
offer; a berth with
Bhattya
was a
considerable prize. The problem would be getting Joshim to agree to the theft.

“It won’t cost us anything to talk to the stranger,” Vidar
was saying. “Until we broadcast the fact that we’re considering Seconds for
promotion, we’ll have nobody else to talk to.”

“And if we do, we’ll be inundated,” Rallya predicted sourly.
“Every Second in the zone will be haunting the Guildhall trying to catch our
eye. Or crowding us out of our own web-room, visiting their long-lost acquaintances
and being boot-licking polite in the hope of impressing us.”

“Nobody who knows your reputation will be licking your
boots, Rallya,” Vidar promised her. “Not unless they’ve finished with their
teeth.”

Rallya snorted unwillingly. “I’d still be happier with a
qualified First,” she insisted. “We haven’t explored all the possibilities yet.”

Joshim sighed and gave her the look that meant: I know what
you’re thinking and the answer is no.

Rallya scowled and shrugged unrepentantly. “You didn’t have
so many principles when I stole you from
Samchaya
,”
she accused him. “Go on, then, ask the pretty boy if we can talk to him.” As
Bhattya
’s Webmaster, it was Joshim’s
right to make the first approach to any webber they chose to court. “Anything
rather than spend the evening being bullied by you two.

“Now I know I’m getting old,” she muttered as Joshim left
the table. “Ten years ago I’d never have given in so easily.”

“You’re only trying to lull us into thinking you’ve given up
on Lina,” Vidar said cheerfully.

“She’s still the best prospect we have,” Rallya muttered
rebelliously. “Better than a over-pretty Second.” She hooked one foot around a
spare seat at a neighbouring table and pulled it into position next to her. “Emperors,
the child can’t be more than twenty-five.”

“Thirty,” the stranger said, arriving behind her in time to
hear. He spoke Empire Standard with a soft accent and a tinge of amusement, as
if his age had been mistaken before and he was used to it.

“Commander Rallya, Captain Vidar, this is Second Officer
Rafell. Rafe.” As Joshim made the introductions, Rafe nodded the appropriate
greetings.

“We’re glad you could join us. Sit down, please,” Vidar
invited. “May we buy you a drink?”

“Thank you, but no.” Rafe took the seat that Rallya had
procured for him and waited with a hint of wariness for the next move. A webber
being courted by a Three was temporarily their equal, although most webbers
were cautious enough not to take advantage of that fact. Still, to refuse a
drink was unusually cautious.

“Do you drink?” Rallya asked curiously.

“Yes, ma’am, but not when I’m hoping for some web-time in
the near future,” he explained.

“On the station waiting list?” Joshim asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Take the drink,” Joshim advised. “Half the station’s web is
out of action – current leakage into the monitor circuits. The rest is fully
occupied running the station. Every shipless webber in the zone is on the
waiting list. The average wait is five days.”