The Icerigger Trilogy: Icerigger, Mission to Moulokin, and The Deluge Drivers (96 page)

T’hosjer T’hos rose. “I will see to it that you are provisioned with whatever you require.” Ta-hoding started to speak and Hunnar was quick to silence the greedy captain. “The additional crew you asked for will arrive at your dock no later than this evening so that you may have time to instruct them prior to your departure. Come, Stonetree. I would talk more on this matter.”

The aged retainer bowed again, holding on to his pointed staff for support. They left together.

Ethan caught September by the wrist. “You ignored your own advice. What was that you told me about accepting the offer of a guide or else we’d insult our host?”

The giant looked uneasy. “I expected someone interested in topography, not revenge. She could steer us wrong, looking for her relatives.”

“Use your head, Skua. All we have to do is listen politely to her suggestions, nod approvingly, then go where our charts and measurements tell us.”

September nodded slowly. “I hope you’re right, young feller-me-lad. What’s done is done. But I’ve seen that expression and heard that tone from humans and nonhumans alike, and I’m telling you now that if that smoky little Tran sees something she wants, she’ll use the
Slanderscree
and the rest of us to get it for her.”

“Ability and determination don’t necessarily go hand in hand, Skua. We’ll be able to handle her.”

“Could be.” His eyes still searched the crowd without finding the shaggy-maned head he was looking for. “Could be also that if she’s convinced demons have shanghaied her father and husband, she’ll find a way to steer us straight to hell.”

“You’ve seen the survey satellite readouts,” Ethan reminded him quietly. “What makes you think we’re not headed there already?”

A
S THEY PREPARED TO
depart the following morning it seemed as though half the city-state’s population had gathered to watch. Poyolavomaarians sat on the docks, stood along the harbor wall, and chivaned on the ice, the adolescents showing off to see who could execute the most intricate and dangerous maneuvers. A few of the icerigger’s sailors were doing a brisk trade in goods they’d brought with them from Arsudun, still little more than a name to most of the islands’ inhabitants. Ta-hoding complained that he was fast becoming captain of a crew of merchants instead of sailors and that the
Slanderscree
was so loaded down with trade goods it wouldn’t steer properly.

Nevertheless, despite his complaints Ta-hoding was justly renowned for his tolerance. The trading was allowed to continue until the ship’s cook attempted to bring aboard a disassembled, intricately carved Poyolavomaarian house, for which he’d traded several barrels of dried vegetables from the ship’s stores. Ta-hoding let loose with a barrage which had his people scrambling to sequester their purchases belowdecks before he could throw them overboard. The next sailor or soldier who attempted to swap so much as a button would find himself tied to the stern of the icerigger to be dragged like baggage all the way to the southern continent, Ta-hoding roared.

The crew griped about lost opportunities for profit but returned to their stations and jobs. Ta-hoding might be overweight and slightly comical-looking, but there was nothing amusing about his authority or his willingness to bring it to bear on those under him. For their part the Poyolavomaarians applauded each of the captain’s inventive imprecations and urged him to still more elaborate flights of verbal-anatomical fancy. Or as September put it: “Nothing like a little cultural exchange to cement friendships among new allies, feller-me-lad.”

While exchanges, verbal and commercial, were taking place, Grurwelk Seesfar clung to the foremast rigging and sneered at her jostling fellow sailors.

It was Suaxus-dal-Jagger, Hunnar’s senior squire, who apologized for intruding on September’s observation with a comment of his own. “Perhaps you could lend your wisdom to a small problem, sirs.”

“What kind of problem?” Ethan sighed. For some unknown reason the Tran believed he possessed great powers of reconciliation and understanding.

“Two of them, actually. They’re right behind you.”

Both men turned. Members of the ship’s crew were going about their business, storing last supplies, cleaning the deck, pouring water to form fresh icepaths, and defrosting frozen pika-pina rope with a lamp. A few were instructing recruits from Poyolavomaar’s navy in the fine points of the icerigger’s operation.

He was just turning back to dal-Jagger when a blur near one of the main loading ramps caught his attention. His first thought was that two of the new crew were midgets. As they slowed and he saw their pudgy faces, he knew they were preadolescent cubs.

That in itself was not a surprise. Wherever they docked cubs loved to play around the great ship, chivaning around its tall metal skates and climbing on the cables that secured the ice anchors. What was surprising was that they were on board. Their antics drew angry comments rather than smiles from the busy crewmembers.

“They’re in the way,” Ethan commented. Dal-Jagger nodded approvingly. “Why not shoo them off, then?”

“That is the problem, Sir Ethan. They are the offspring of this Seesfar person who has been forc—assigned to us by the Landgrave of Poyolavomaar. It is beyond normal protocol.” The squire was obviously upset. “I understand as do most of us that we must accept her because to refuse would be to insult our new allies, but it is beyond common sense to expect us to accept her entire family as well. The
Slanderscree
is not a nursery.”

“Why not just let it slide?” September suggested. “What harm can a couple of cubs do? The trip’s bound to further their education.”

“The
Slanderscree
is also not a school. Nor is it a passenger transport. The crew are already complaining.”

“Absurd. Next you’ll be telling me it’s bad luck to have a female on board.”

Dal-Jagger eyed him oddly. “Why would I say a thing like that, Sir Skua? All who sail know it is the contrary, that it is good fortune to have a mixed crew. Not to mention more enjoyable for all involved. But you are not Tran.”

“Nope. Every race to its own prejudices, I guess.”

“This has nothing to do with prejudice. It is a question of what is practical and sensible,” dal-Jagger said firmly. He gestured toward the loading ramp. “Several times they have almost caused others to fall.”

“No need for a cabin boy or two, is what you’re saying. Our traditions ain’t the same either. Ah.” His tone changed to one of satisfaction. “The captain has been informed.

“Come on, feller-me-lad. This ought to prove interesting.”

Grurwelk was hidden behind Ta-hoding’s mass, though they could hear her stating her case as they approached.

“They come with me because I am all they have left. They are my family.”

“While you are on my ship your crewmates are your family,” Ta-hoding shot back. “T’hos rules in Poyolavomaar. Out on the ice, I am lord. They must remain here.”

“I’m taking them with me,” she growled, “so that they may see their father again soonest,
if
he still lives.”

Something bumped into Ethan from behind, nearly knocking him off his feet. When he turned he found himself staring down into a wide furry face. Its owner took a step backward and stumbled into his brother. Both of them fell to the deck. Awed eyes flicked from Ethan to September and back again. The cub let out a peculiar whoosh of chilled air, the small cloud like a visual exclamation mark. Ethan knew it as the Tran equivalent of gosh-gee-whiz.

“Look,” breathed the cub, “it’s the great lords from the sky!”

“Not great lords,” Ethan corrected him.

The pair scrambled to their feet. “It is as we were told. You are as modest as a great lord, sir.”

On the edge of puberty, Ethan decided as he studied them. Cute as could be. As he looked on they both bent double and rested their paws on the deck.

“We are honored,” they said in unison.

“Charming little buggers,” September commented. He glanced at Ta-hoding. “You sure they’d be in the way, Captain?”

That worthy looked uncomfortable but he stuck to his guns. “If you were a scout or a pilot, Sir Skua, you would know how out of place cubs are on a warship.”

“Warship?” Seesfar seized on the claim immediately. “I see no preparations for war. Only for travel and exploration.”

“We go not to fight but we must be prepared to. We have had to do so in the past.”

“You speak of my offspring as being in the way. What do you call these foolish humans who dash back and forth and run into each other much as my children?”

“Scholars. Scholars are often absent-minded because they are constantly thinking on scholarly things. This is something that is the same among the skypeople as it is among us.”

“What better place for a pair of cubs, then, but among a host of scholars? Think of what they could learn.”

Ta-hoding flashed his dan at her. “I will not sail this ship out of this harbor with those infants aboard!”

Eyes locked. Sailors pretended to continue their work. When the end came it was a surprise to everyone.

Seesfar nodded, just once. “This is your ship. While I am on it, I will abide by your decisions.”

Ta-hoding relaxed uncertainly. “Well, I—that is right of you. Very right. It is decided, then.”

“Yes. Decided.” She put her dan protectively around both cubs. “Come, sons of Seesfar. My body will go but my heart will stay still upon the ice.” As everyone stared she led them down the ramp and off the ship.

“See?” Ethan said smugly. “She’s perfectly responsive.”

September was following the departing guide with his eyes. “Or perfectly subtle.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“Any Tran who’s ever sailed a ship knows that cubs aren’t wanted aboard.” He nodded toward the dock. “She knew that when she brought them aboard. She was also aware of our worries about her. What if she brought them on just so we could see how docile she could be when push came to shove? What if the whole confrontation was a sham, staged so she’d have a chance to demonstrate how ‘cooperative’ she could be? To allay our lingering concerns?”

“I hadn’t thought of that. I’ve been out of sales for too long.” Ethan considered, finally said, “Maybe we should try to keep her off even at the risk of insulting T’hos?”

September shook his head. “Too late for that. Besides, anybody that clever—if she is that clever and I’m not reading motives into her actions that weren’t there—could be a definite asset on a trip like this. I just can’t escape the feeling she was smiling inside all the while she was arguing with Ta-hoding.”

Exasperation colored Ethan’s response. “Skua, make up your mind! Do you want her off the ship or not?”

“I really don’t know, young feller-me-lad, and that’s the truth. Hard enough to know what to make of an enigma when it’s human.”

Ethan walked off, shaking his head in frustration. September continued to stare into the crowd until what really troubled him finally struck home.

Feloursine or not, he was startled to realize; Grurwelk Seesfar was a lot like him.

As the
Slanderscree
departed Poyolavomaar and turned south toward the equator, Ethan saw little of Grurwelk Seesfar. When not counseling Ta-hoding about ice conditions and weather, she remained below in her hammock, quiet and unobtrusive. It would be easy, he mused, to forget she was aboard, so little did she show herself on deck. Perhaps that was what she wanted.

The great ice sheet slipped beneath the
Slanderscree
’s runners. Uninhabited islands poked their heads through the white pavement off to starboard while great fields of pika-pedan, pike-pina’s giant relative, dominated the western horizon. Though stories of iceships becoming trapped in such fields were a staple of sailor lore, such tragedies were rare in reality. That didn’t keep Ta-hoding from giving the forest of towering succulents a wide berth wherever possible.

Four-legged furry crunilites scurried the length of the growths, nibbling at the soft sides, while a pair of Oroes drifted from the crown of one stalk to another, the sacs on their backs fully inflated.

It was instructive to view the fauna of the pika-pedan forest—from a distance. He hadn’t forgotten, never would forget, the day when he’d nearly been dragged beneath the ice and consumed by a kossief during their journey to distant Moulokin. The ice sheet was home to all manner of creatures in addition to the far-ranging root system of the pika-pina and pika-pedan.

Each night Ta-hoding would park the icerigger with its stern facing into the west wind, the ice anchors would be set out, and all but the night watch would settle into a deep, unbroken sleep. Cheela Hwang and her companions slept as soundly as the
Slanderscree
’s crew. The cold itself was exhausting.

Ethan didn’t know what woke him. His breath was a distinct, pale cloud in the moonlit air of the cabin. Here near Tran-ky-ky’s equator the nighttime temperature fell no farther than a mere forty or fifty below. He looked around in the dark and tried to remember what had disturbed his sleep. His survival suit lay nearby. Some of the scientists chose to sleep in their suits, but he and September had long since abandoned the practice. They slept instead beneath small mountains of thick furs. Besides being more comfortable, it gave the suits a chance to air out.

As a precaution he reached out and touched a contact on the suit’s sleeve to prewarm the interior. At the same time the sensation was repeated: movement. There shouldn’t be any movement. Multiple ice anchors locked the icerigger in place and if anything it was unusually calm outside. Sudden gales were not unknown at night, but this was different. He had experience of wind-induced motion and this wasn’t it.

A third time and he was sure. Not movement to port or starboard, bow or stern. More like a settling sensation.

“Skua? Skua, wake up.”

Across from his bed a massive form stirred beneath an avalanche of blankets. “Hy—what?”

“We’re moving, Skua. The ship has moved. Several times.”

“So what? Everything on this world moves. The wind sees to that.”

“No, this is different. It’s more like—” The
Slanderscree
shuddered again. A moment of uncertainty until the motion ceased, then September rolled over to peer across at his companion. White hair gleamed in the moonlight.