Horizon Storms (17 page)

The ocean’s surface roiled with bubbles as the last atmospheric inclusions were squeezed out of the rigid framework. Then, underwater, the wentals sealed the ship with their own binding force.

Jess stepped higher onto the dry rocks as the waves suddenly parted with a roar and the immense ball lifted itself from the water. The new ship hovered dripping over the restless seas, its framework filled with ocean water caught in an invisible bubble of wental force, like a gigantic raindrop held together by surface tension.

The planet’s twin moons shone down under cascades of stars, limning

the water-based vessel with silvery radiance. The coral and pearl glowed with cold fire. The delicate bubble-ship moved smoothly, gently, until it hovered a hand’s width from the ground in front of Jess. The wall of flowing water beckoned him like a doorway, and Jess knew that he had to enter.

He passed without a ripple through the membrane.

He found himself inside an aquarium globe filled with water and fishes, tiny sea animals, drifting plants, everything touched by the wentals’

essence. Inside, he stood enfolded by the water, feeling only warmth and comfort. It was amazing and wonderful.

Now you, and we, can command this ship.

His sense of awe gave way to impatient determination. Finally he could be off on his grand quest, and he knew exactly where he had to go. He would set out to find Cesca again—at least to let her know what had happened to him, and to ask all Roamers for their assistance in his grand new mission.

Not knowing how he did so, Jess guided the huge water ship. The enormous sphere of water rose into the misty clouds. Smoothly and silently, the wental starcraft rose away from the unnamed planet, leaving the throbbing, living seas behind.

Jess was going back to Rendezvous, where he belonged.

275CESCA PERONI

Once the news leaked about the EDF attack on Raven Kamarov’s ship, the Roamers would be up in arms and they would all offer their own suggestions for retribution—as Jess had done when he’d bombarded Golgen with a flurry of comets. Before that could happen, however, Cesca decided to meet in private with a handful of the most important clan lead-

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ers. She called together those who happened to be in Rendezvous at the time.

As always, the interconnected Roamer families would push and pull in different directions. Getting the clans to agree on anything, Speaker Okiah often said, was almost as difficult as establishing a new outpost on the most inhospitable of planets.

Cesca would speak her piece and listen to their advice, but she feared they would want to go overboard. And how could she argue against it? The EDF had actively attacked Roamer ekti ships like criminals in the night.

But the repercussions of the clan response would reverberate for years to come.

Seven scions met inside one of the large rock-walled chambers carved out of the central Rendezvous asteroid. Cesca sat at the head of the table, watching the men and women, none of whom knew exactly why they had been called here on such short notice. “I’m afraid I have to deliver bad news again.”

Old Alfred Hosaki put his bony chin in his hands with an exaggerated groan. “I should just stop coming to these meetings.” The others chuckled, then waited nervously to hear what the Speaker had to say.

With a stumbling clamor in the narrow halls outside of the room, Nikko Chan Tylar and three strong Roamer men carried in loads of battered and twisted wreckage, hull plates, an engine cowling. Blackened scars and unnaturally melted curves hinted at what had happened to the destroyed vessel. They dumped the debris on the floor at the back of the room.

“This is all that remains of Raven Kamarov’s ship,” Cesca said. The clan leaders stared.

Everyone remembered the bearded and likable captain who carried ekti deliveries to various Roamer depots. Cesca explained how Nikko had found the wreckage along Kamarov’s projected route. Nikko grinned as if he would be rewarded for such a find, but she said, “I’ll speak to you again later,” and sent him and his helpers away so the other Roamers could continue their meeting. His father, Crim, who was in the meeting, turned pale with surprise and anger.

Cesca continued, “Every one of our tests and analytical procedures has verified the unmistakable hand of the EDF. Jazers did this. The Big Goose

has grown desperate enough to commit acts of outright murder and piracy against Roamers.”

Then she let the clan leaders think through the implications on their own.

“Arrogant bastards!” potbellied Roberto Clarin cried. He was the manager of Hurricane Depot, which had been Kamarov’s last destination.

“It could have just been one hothead,” Anna Pasternak suggested. “We don’t know if this is a new policy of the Big Goose.”

“Do you put it past them? We can’t ignore this!” Crim Tylar said.

“The Hansa is responsible for what their strong-arm military does.”

Clarin’s plump face was practically purple. “Somebody knows what happened to Raven’s ship, and nobody’s bothered to confess to it.”

“Do you think they took Raven captive?” Alfred Hosaki said. “Do you think he’s a prisoner on one of their hellhole penal colonies?”

“Oh, why would they do that?” Fred Maylor asked, always cautious.

“So they could interrogate him, find out information about us. Damn, he was a friend of mine!”

“He’s dead!”

Cesca let them shout comments for a while without any rules of order, before she seized control of the meeting again by raising her voice. “It’s time to look to your Guiding Stars. The main question is, what are we going to do about it?”

“I say we stop selling them ekti, that’s for sure,” bellowed Clarin.

“Nothing from my depot is ever going to fuel their pirate ships again.

We’ve got little enough stardrive fuel for our own purposes. I say we quit doing business with thieves and murderers.”

The Roamers shouted and argued, most agreeing with the sentiment, but Cesca cautioned them. “Be careful here. The clans need trade with the Big Goose. We get half of our high-tech and industrial materials from them.”

“Not to mention the income. They’re our best customers for ekti,”

Pasternak said. “They squawk about the high prices we charge, but they always pay.”

Fred Maylor calmly pointed out the obvious. “Except when they blow up our vessels and steal the ekti for themselves.”

Crim Tylar scowled. “About a dozen ships are unaccounted for since 94

the hydrogue war started. Who believes that Raven’s was the first, or the only one, to be hit by the Eddies?”

Cesca maintained a brave face, all too aware that Jess Tamblyn’s ship had also disappeared without a trace. Could he too have fallen victim to an EDF attack?

“Personally, I don’t need trade with murderers!” Maylor said with a sniff. Several of the other clan leaders grumbled their agreement.

“Shizz, it’s not as if we have an actual surplus anyway.” Clarin crossed his arms over his ample belly, still simmering with anger. “We get our ekti through high risk and lost lives. My own brother died at Erphano, before we even knew what the hydrogues were up to. I say we dig in our heels until such time as the Big Goose changes its ways and grants us the respect we deserve.”

“How long can it be before they come crawling back to us?” Hosaki asked. “They don’t have any other source of fuel.”

“Sounds like a foregone conclusion to me,” Anna Pasternak said.

The discussion shot back and forth among the clan leaders as they worked themselves into a greater anger. Cesca tried to be calm and firm, attempting to steer them away from a regrettable course of action.

“We need to be cautious and consider the consequences. I’m concerned this will backfire. The Eddies have already proven their willingness to use extreme violence against us. What if this triggers further raids on de-fenseless clan ships or outposts? We all could suffer a great deal—”

“Speaker, we’ve got to show them they can’t push us around.” Maylor rarely got himself so worked up.

“Uh, but they can push us around, if they really want to,” Hosaki mumbled. “They have a huge military and a lot of ships. We wouldn’t be able to stand against the Eddies if push came to shove.”

“They can’t push us if they don’t know where to find us. Since when have Roamers ever been easy to locate?”

Crim Tylar pounded his fist on the table. “I agree with Roberto Clarin.

Severing business ties with the Big Goose is our only recourse. They have the military might, but we have the commercial muscle here. The Terran Hanseatic League understands that.”

“Yes! Cut off all stardrive fuel until the Chairman or the King condemns the piracy conducted by the Earth Defense Forces.”

“And they have to bring the perpetrators to justice!” Clarin shouted.

“Oh, they’ll just find a scapegoat.”

“Who cares? As long as they admit their actions.”

“And they have to swear that no further attacks will occur.”

“Shizz, they’ll never do all that,” groaned Pasternak.

“Well, if they don’t agree to play by our rules, then we Roamers will have all the fuel we need for our own purposes,” Clarin said. “What’s wrong with that?”

The clan leaders were riled up, and Cesca again urged caution. “We’ll take a day to consider what we’ve discussed, and in the meantime we need to bring in the input from other clan heads. Of course, we’ve got to take action—but it should be the right action.”

“I don’t need to consider anymore,” Tylar said. “It seems clear enough to me. My Guiding Star’s gone nova.”

“I’m ready to vote,” Clarin said. “Why get bogged down in interminable debates?”

Cesca had never seen the clan leaders so unified, so easily. “Are you prepared for the fallout? Our clans will need to tighten our belts even more. We’ll have to be ready for even more extreme retaliation—”

Pasternak snorted. “We are Roamers! We can always survive. The universe provides the materials we need, if we have the nerve and the ingenuity to take them. Rendezvous itself is a perfect example of how we can manage to live where no one else could.”

“Yes, back then, the Kanaka didn’t need commercial ties with the Hansa,” Clarin said. “None of us does. It’s time we remembered our own heritage—maybe we’re too spoiled, too soft from relying on all those Hansa luxuries. We left Earth a long time ago never intending to come back. It is time for us to cut the umbilical cord.”

Cesca saw the sense of the families, despite her own misgivings. “This will not be easy, but it is certainly possible.” She stood at the head of the table. “We will survive. We always do.”

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After the best dinner she could manage—mushroom stew, of course—

Orli started on her required classwork. Her father kissed her on the cheek and went into town. He always enjoyed pie-in-the-sky brainstorming with his fellow Dremen colonists.

When she finished her classwork, Orli unrolled her old and out-of-tune music synthesizer strips and diligently practiced, letting her fingers wander across the pads to create haunting melodies. She turned up the volume, playing more vigorously as the mood took her. In indefinable ways, the melodies told a story, reflecting some of her memories, even her opinions of other people in town, who she knew laughed at her father behind his back.

Whenever she played in Jan’s presence, he applauded so often that he distracted her. Now that Orli was alone, she could improvise to her heart’s content. The music soothed and entertained her.

A gifted though untrained player, she enjoyed listening to ancient classical compositions, analyzing the structure of symphonies so she could better develop her own music. Unfortunately, her small set of synthesizer strips was limited in range. Jan kept promising that when they had enough money he would send her to the finest school off planet. Orli knew he meant it, but she wasn’t sure they’d ever have the funds.

Tired and sore from working hard in the sloppy mushroom fields all day, Orli left the synthesizer strips and fell asleep on the sofa. She woke abruptly when her father bounded through the prefab door, grinning with such exuberance that her heart fell. That was never a good sign.

“Good news, girl! An opportunity we just can’t pass up!”

Rubbing her eyes, she got to her feet and went to give him a welcoming hug. “What is it?”

“Oh, come on—show a little excitement. This could be a big break for us. You’ve heard about the Hansa’s new colonization initiative?”

“The abandoned Klikiss worlds? But they’re dry and empty and—”

“And warm, girl. And full of sunshine. All that land unclaimed. There’s M A G E - I M P E R A T O R J O R A ’ H

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a Hansa ship stopping by Dremen in another week to round up volunteers bound for the nearest transportal hub. We’ll receive subsidies, Hansa-sup-plied equipment, everything we need. Pioneers! You and I could become rich miners, or forestry tycoons. The possibilities are endless.”

“We’re leaving in a . . . week?” They didn’t have many belongings to pack up and get ready. She had always guessed it was only a matter of time before her father pulled up stakes again and chased after another rainbow.

“You’ve already signed us up, haven’t you, Dad?”

“Yes, indeed.” He tousled her hair. “Our names are right at the top of the list.”

295MAGE-IMPERATOR JORA’H

udru’h was the closest of his brothers in age, but of all the subjects in the Ildiran Empire, the Dobro Designate was the man Jora’h least wanted to see. He, even more than their father, was responsible for the breeding program. However, as he made preparations to go to Dobro himself, Jora’h had demanded that his brother present him a full report on Nira. At least Udru’h could take her out of the breeding camps and save her.

Formally receiving his brother, Jora’h sat in dazzling colored light that shone through the skysphere dome. Above him, an immense arboretum held plants, flowers, ferns, flitting butterfly-analogs, and buzzing featherhums. Several loyal guard kithmen stood around the chrysalis chair on its dais.