Children of Hope (73 page)

“He will not be brought to the caller.”

“Not to the caller. To the fish.”

Dead silence. For over a minute, I heard nothing but my short stabbing breaths.

Then, “This is Right Reverend Scanlen. What deal do you offer?”

“Salt. I know it sounds odd, but they want salt. Let them trade and they’ll—”

“You need rebalancing.” Scanlen’s tone was dismissive. “Ms Frand, obliterate that fish at the first opportunity. I have a link to Mr Kenzig if you wish that confirmed.”

“No, sir. Not necessary.”
Frand’s tone was heavy.

“You will send Seafort and his woman groundside as soon as hostilities cease.”

“Reverend Pandeker assured me that wouldn’t be neces
—
”

“I’m certain it was his honest conviction.” Scanlen’s voice was unctuous. “But from the Cathedral, the view is clearer. God’s law demands retribution.”

“
I don’t
—
I’ll have to think
…
”

“Of course, Ms Frand. Think it through. Consult with Reverend Pandeker.”

A long silence.
“Very well.”
Frand sounded defeated.

So it
was
to be treason. I called, “Mr Winthrop?”

The reply was immediate; he must have been waiting by his transmitter. “Yes, joey?”

“In less than an hour, thanks to the Church and Navy, the fish will attack. When you’ve had enough of their madness, call me on this frequency.” Two could play at insurrection.

“Palabee to Admiralty. I’m leaving at once for Centraltown. Join me at—”

“Do that,
Vince.
” My scorn was withering. “By heli, it’s a six-hour flight. I estimate they’ll meet you about halfway. Think of me when the first outrider leaps aboard.”

“You little bastard, you wouldn’t—”

“I wouldn’t. They would.” My voice was ice.

“We can’t just hide in the hills—”

“I tried reason. I tried begging. Now I’ll try the only course left. Good day.”

I clicked off my caller, gripped my stick. “One-arm talk big outrider.”

BIG OUTRIDER NOT IN ONE-ARM FISH.

“One-arm go big outrider fish.” Or, if you prefer …

SMALL TIME. MINUTES. NO-GO.
I grunted. If that wasn’t “Wait a minute,” I didn’t know what was.

Abruptly we Fused once more. Other than the suddenness, it wasn’t quite as unnerving. Moments later, we Defused. We’d emerged perhaps a little farther from the sun, but I had sunlight enough to see we were surrounded by fish.

Our fish’s color swirled ever more rapidly; our direction changed, and fish loomed closer. We must be squirting propellant, but I felt nothing.

An outrider merged into the outer membrane and was gone.

I used the wait that followed to work at vocabulary. We needed a symbol for “help.” I drew “Trade help outriders,” and “trade help humans.” They didn’t understand. Then I tried, “Outrider help one-arm suit, one-arm no die.”

YES. HELP
.

A new word. I sighed. We needed so many.

In moments, the membrane admitted two outriders. I realized I couldn’t possibly keep track of them. Perhaps they couldn’t themselves.

In the dim light, the outrider drew.
BIG OUTRIDER SAY WAR / NO WAR.

“Here in one-arm fish?”

YES
. He withdrew, attached himself to a membrane.

There was one outrider left.

“Hello.”

He quivered.

I got to work. “One-arm not big-human. Big-human in ship. Humans war humans. One-arm say trade. Ship-humans say no-trade.”

I waited. It was a lot to digest.

TRADE EQUALS NO WAR. NO-TRADE EQUALS WAR.

“I know that.” I bit my lip. Fog was settling into my thoughts.

“Big outrider say fish go planet. Not planet.” Damn it, I needed words we didn’t have. I tried to recall every bloody symbol we knew. Near. Jess had made a hieroglyph for “near.” Circles close, but not touching. Harry had seemed to understand. If he did, they all did. “Big outrider help one-arm. Big outrider tell fish go near planet. Small time. One-arm talk ship, one-arm say trade. Fish go near planet. Near war.” But not make war. Please, God, help them understand.

HUNDRED FISH GO NOT-NEAR STATION, NEAR PLANET. FISH /HUMANS NEAR WAR. NOT WAR.

“Yes!” I underlined it three times, as if he’d taste my fervor. “One-arm tell big-human go inside one-arm fish. Big-human talk big-outrider.” I’d bring you together, here in my fish. It would be the last thing I did.

TRADE?

“Big-human say trade.” It was a promise I hoped I could keep.

We waited while he sent emissaries throughout his fleet.

One by one, the fish began blinking out.

I floated, in fetal position. Occasionally my helmet touched the overhead, or my arm the deck.

“—another twenty or so. They’re massing just above the outer atmos—”

“—urged to take every precaution. In the great war, the Centraltown bomb appeared overhead less than thirteen minutes—”

“
—
at flank speed. They’ll have begun their descent before
Olympiad’
s in position to
—
”

My suit was hot, desperately hot. I ought to do something about it.

“—posted a list of inoculation centers in the event of virus—”

“Josh Hopewell, Theo Mantiet, this is Winthrop on open circuit. I can’t locate you; call me privately the moment you—”

The big outrider had anchored himself to the deck. He waited impassively, an occasional twitch his only motion.

“Kaminski, have you located the fish with the Carr joey?”

“—emergency meeting of the Planters’ Council—”

“Ms Frand, I haven’t tried. We’re over horizon for all but a few of—”

“I’m right here.” I cleared my throat, tried again. “Randolph Carr … to all parties, attention.” My tongue was thick. “We’re in a great … squadron of fish just outside the atmosphere. Once they begin their descent I doubt they can reverse …” I panted.

“You frazzing traitor!” It sounded like the Bishop.

“I never told them to attack!” And it was even true; I’d only told them to pretend to attack. What would the aliens do if my scheme failed? It didn’t bear considering. “We have … few minutes at most. Station can’t help you now, Scanlen. Neither can
Olympiad.
Your joeygirl Frand will show up just in time to watch the carnage.”

“You think your fish friends will spare
you,
Randolph? You’re done for. If not by them, by us.”

“Oh, I know. But … better hurry. Fading fast, here.” I slapped my leg. It didn’t seem to help. “They’ll listen to me, see? Like me to call ’em off?”

“What do you want?” Bishop Scanlen’s voice was strained.

“Help. I want a responsible adult to treat with ’em. One you’ll all trust.”

“And … who’s … that?” The voice floated from another galaxy.

I jerked myself awake. “Already told you. Mr Seafort.” I yawned mightily, nearly dislocated my jaw.

“You jest. I wouldn’t trust him enough to—”

“Not his intent. Justasec.” It was no use. I tore at my clamps. Somehow I got the helmet off, took huge gasps of horrible air. Cradling it upside down, I spoke into the helmet mike, straining to hear the speakers. “Bet you trust his word. Most honest man you ever met.”

“That’s as may be. He’s … out of the picture.”

“Put him back in. Got only a few minutes.” The fetid air was making me dizzy. Barely better than the suit.

The big outrider stirred. Other aliens squeezed through internal membranes, headed for the skin. They became indistinct, disappeared.

Hastily, I wrote, “?”

OUTRIDER HELP ONE-ARM.

How? I could ask, but it seemed too much trouble.

“Ms Frand, what about it? You want war?”

“It’s not my decision, joey.”

“Goofjuice! Send Mr Seafort. We’ll put a stop—”

“We’re sailing your way.”

“Send him in the launch!” The launch could sail rings around a behemoth like
Olympiad.

“He’s under administrative deten
—
”

“Jesus God, how’d you ever make lieutenant? Release him! Scanlen doesn’t own you!”

“No, but Lord God owns my soul. I’m doing what
—
”

I panted, “What d’ya think He’ll … say when … fish take out Hope Nation? ‘Well done, daughter’?”

Frand’s tone was somber.
“No. I don’t think that.
Olympiad
to Admiralty, urgent priority. Respond.”

“Lieutenant Riev at Admiralty, go ahead, I’ll relay …”

“Put Kenzig on the line, you contemptible toady!”

“Ma’am, we serve the same cause—”

“The bloody hell we do. Put him on!”

Two outriders merged through the skin to enter our chamber. Their forms were thick and bulky.

I wondered what prayer to make at the end. I wouldn’t be conscious much longer.

The outrider nudged me with a gray appendage.

I waved him away. “Later.”

“Kenzig here.” The Admiral’s tone was cautious.

“Sir, I know your position’s difficult, but do you think we might do as he asks? Carr trusts him, so do the planters. Hell, I do too, for that matter. Seafort won’t go back on his word.”

OUTRIDER HELP ONE-ARM.

“Too late, joey.”

ONE-ARM NO DIE.

“Yes, die.” Please, God, get it over with. I’d failed.

The outrider poked my air tank. Floating free, it drifted across the chamber.

“Leave it, it’s empty.” I couldn’t write that, my brain was fogged, and we didn’t have words.

He poked it again.

The speaker crackled: “All citizens of Centraltown, by advice of the Planters’ Council, remain in your homes. Stay off the streets.”

I closed my eyes. Something nudged me. I squinted. My tank. I shoved it away.

Wait a minute.

I was
wearing
my tank.

Wearily, heart pounding, I shoved off after the other tank, cornered it at a membrane.

The surface was mottled. I could barely make out the plate.

UNS
Challenger.

“Thanks, but it’s fifty years old. It wouldn’t …”

The seal was good.

I cried, “Don’t give me hope!” If it was empty, it would be too much to bear.

“You’d send the SecGen to his death inside a fish?” Admiral Kenzig.

Ms Frand said,
“They haven’t killed Randy.”

“Not yet.”

I reached behind me, undid my useless tank, switched the hose connector to the new. In zero gee it was just possible; in grav, I couldn’t have managed it one-handed.

Helmet.

I grabbed at it; it skittered away.

The outrider fell atop it, surged from deck to bulkhead. It loomed over me, brandishing the helmet. I flinched. It flowed over me, centering the helmet on my suit, blinding me completely. A click. Another.

Light, as the outrider withdrew. Hastily, I switched on the tank.

Cold, fresh air.

My lungs heaved. Lord God! I breathed, over and again. The dull ache behind my eyes receded.

“Venturas Base to
Olympiad,
fish are coming down! Half a dozen at least! For God’s sake, help us!”

I spun to the big outrider. “Outrider say no war!”

NO WAR.

“Fish go planet!”

OUTRIDER HELP ONE-ARM.

“But—”

FISH GO PLANET. DIE.

I gaped. “A bluff?” I yearned for a way to write it. Were they just like us, after all?

FISH GO. NO OUTRIDERS.

I jabbed at my radio. “For God’s sake, Mr Kenzig!”

The Admiral’s voice was tired. “Bishop Scanlen, I’ll take responsibility for sending Seafort. Do you object?”

“Bless it, of course I do! He’s an excommunicate, an apostate—”

“His blasted joeyboy has us by the private parts, and demands Seafort. What do you suggest?”

Scanlen yelled, “Kill the fish!”

“But, Your Reverence, there are technical difficulties. The Station’s out of range for sixteen hours.
Olympiad
won’t have a shot until—”

“You’re here to protect us!”

A long silence. “Actually, I’m envoy to an allied government, here to superintend our visiting ships. We’ve no fleet, no personnel, no—”

The Bishop’s tone was frantic. “While you gabble, Kenzig, Satan’s spawn loom overhead!”

I grinned tightly. “Let me make it clear,” I said. “I won’t lift a finger to stop the fish without Captain Seafort.”

“Accursed seed of a warped soul! Thou child of the devil, thou enemy of all righteousness, wilt thou not cease to pervert—”

“BISHOP!”
Kenzig’s bellow could have stopped an avalanche.

Silence, that seemed to stretch forever. “So be it,” Scanlen said heavily. “Send a demon to treat with demons.”

The Admiral’s tone was brisk. “Ms Frand, escort Captain Seafort to the launch. Make all haste.”

I demanded, “Restored to his rank and authority!”

“I can’t return him to command of
Olympiad.
Not while—”

“I didn’t say command of
Olympiad.
Full rank and authority.”

“But …”

“Centraltown, Venturas Base here. Can you send help?
Olympiad?
Station? Venturas Base is declaring an emerg—”

“Very well. Ms Frand, Log it. You’d best hurry.”

“Not just the Captain. I need someone else.”

“Who?”

I took a deep breath. “Chris Dakko. A civilian, he’s—”

“The victualler, yes. See that it’s done, Ms Frand.”

“Sir, if he doesn’t want to go …?”

“SEND HIM!” The Admiral’s roar made me flinch.

“Aye aye, sir!”

I turned to the big outrider. “Big human go to one-arm fish. Inside yes?”

INSIDE YES
. Then,
HUMAN FEAR?

My tone was grim. “Not this human.”

T
HE LAUNCH APPROACHED CAUTIOUSLY
, with minute bursts from its thrusters. Two figures emerged, extra tanks trailing.

No sooner had the hatch slid shut than a plaintive voice asked, “May I withdraw, please, Captain?”

“No, Mr Yost. Stay close in case—”

“Permission granted, Mr Yost. Withdraw to a safe distance. One kilometer.”
And then, unnecessarily,
“She’s my ship now, Mr Seafort. We may have need of our launch.
”