Ammonite Planets (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #1-3 (7 page)

Xenon 49 raised his eyebrows and looked at her steadily.

“You don’t know anything about it at all, dear,” Cimma said quite contentedly. “You had better leave everything to me, now. I won’t let anything hurt your sister, don’t you worry about that!”

Xenon caught Grace’s eye. Grace looked quickly away. Amanita was staring at Cimma with an unbelieving expression, and both grandchildren were open-eyed.

XENON 49 LEFT them as soon as he had finished eating, so Grace was forced to wait until it was time for Xenon 50 and Genna to go to sleep for the opportunity to talk to him alone. As soon as Amanita had taken the two youngsters away, trailing a Cimma who had assumed office as a bodyguard, Grace slipped unannounced into her brother’s office.

“I’m glad to talk to you alone, Grace,” he said. “Mother really can’t go on like this. I will have to ask Amanita to take cards in the matter.”

“Please don’t, Xenon. She doesn’t do anybody any harm, and I am sure she will get better soon.”

“She had better. I really don’t need all Sell to be talking about Mother. It’s too bad of her to behave like this. She doesn’t seem to realize that
I
am head of house now!”

“She is just mourning Father.”

“Well, why can’t she mourn like anybody else – without causing any fuss?” he asked, jabbing a finger at the predis button in order to silence the interscreen. “Why should I have to put up with all this?”

“Actually,” Grace pointed out, “you don’t have to put up with very much at all.”

His eyes narrowed. “I hope that is not a criticism against your head of house, Grace?”

“No, of course not. I just meant … that is, I’m sorry.” She hung her head.

“Very well. Now go away, do. I have a lot of work to catch up on.”

“I wanted to ask you something about the program.”

He frowned. “Since when have you been interested … oh, very well, but make it fast.”

“It will only take a minute Xenon.” Grace was forced to put her question into unreceptive air: “What do we do with them all?”

“‘Do with them all’?”

“What happens to the candidates?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said evasively. “Now go away, Grace. I really do have a lot to do today, and I can’t see what possible interest you could have in any of this. It is none of your business. And I must say I wish you showed as much interest in your schoolwork as you do in things that have nothing to do with you. I am getting tired of reading indifferent reports from Atheron.”

“Just wondering, that’s all. Not important.” She turned and let herself out of the room. Her brother had already turned back to the papers on his enormous desk.

Grace looked around her at the new floor her brother had had built. Everything still smelt new, and it all glistened. But it felt cold and hostile to her. It was a place to come only when unavoidable – the scene of a social obligation to be endured. She knew that she would never come up here of her own accord.

AS SOON AS she got home Grace changed into a bodywrap and picked up three mask packs. She simply had to get out again. She physically needed to walk out under the stars, where everything was put into easy perspective and hopefully her overactive brain would quieten down enough to let her sleep when she got back.

She let herself out onto the first floor terrace again via the back lift, and then slowly negotiated the steep metal stairs set into the rexelene.

She felt free and exhilarated as she stepped down onto the planet. Everything was easier, this second time. Everything was familiar, welcoming her back. She turned her face up to the stars and basked in the grey light. Even through the mask pack she could feel it.

The stars were magnificent. They jostled each other for her attention, each one calling out to something inside her. I wish, she thought. I wish I could just close my eyes and feel part of you. I feel so insignificant against such a display of age. I am seeing you as you used to be thousands, millions, even billions of years ago. It makes it hard to think that my tiny life is of any moment at all.

Without consciously meaning to, her steps took her back to the black lake, back to where the donor apprentices were. She sat down next to the edge of the lake, and took a sip from her water bottle. It was quiet again now, there was no movement anywhere to disturb the peace of the spot.

The orthogel in front of her was tempting in its very immobility, and she put her hand to the surface. Even though she was protected by the light bodywrap around her fingers, she could feel the substance.

“AARGH!” She leapt back, terrified. Something had touched her hand, through the orthogel. She almost choked before she managed to get control of her breathing again, so that the mask pack could work efficiently.

There was nothing in the lake that could hurt her. She knew that there were no vertebrate animals on Valhai, except those imported by the Sells and bound to remain under the aerated covers especially made for them. The only life which had been found on the surface of the small planet was microscopic, and the reason that the orthogel was perceived as black. It was full of tiny chemotrophs. Nothing nearly big enough to push at her hand.

“Nothing scary,” she assured herself nervously. “So … that means that you have nothing to be afraid of. Which in its turn means that you can go back there and put your hand back because you probably imagined it.”

She forced herself to go back to the shore, and to place her hand down onto the black surface again. At first nothing happened. And then, one by one, and very slowly as if to avoid scaring her again, she felt a pressure on her fingers.

She snatched her hand back. But nothing had hurt her, had it? So after waiting for a few moments she tried again. Again she felt the pressure against her hands. She moved her own fingers, and there was an immediate response which felt almost eager. The sequence was repeated, three times, as if to congratulate her.

The apprentices! The donor apprentices must have found a way to communicate with her! She couldn’t think how, but there didn’t seem to be any other explanation possible either. She moved her fingers again against the orthogel. No doubt about it, the pressure which was instantly returned was trying to communicate with her. She felt sure of it.

She realized that the same fingers were being pressed insistently, in the same order. She was sure that they were trying to tell her something, whoever they were. But what? Grace returned the sequence so that they knew that she had received the communication, but she couldn’t translate it into anything.

In the end she was forced by the bleeping of the last mask pack to leave the dark lake. She pressed both hands to the surface, imitating the Valhai way to say goodbye. The orthogel duly pressed back on all her fingertips. Whoever it was had seemed to understand.

Grace made her way back home in a daze. What had happened was incredible, but there was nobody she could tell about it. She was outside illegally, and in any case she wouldn’t be believed. For a moment she contemplated telling Vion, but decided that even he might feel obligated to inform the authorities. She didn’t think he would, but it didn’t seem fair to put him in the position of having to choose.

Although it was now quite late at night, the sky remained almost exactly as it always did. Variations in the light were due to the orbit of Sacras, the binary star; and small changes in the Valhai orbit around its triangular stable point. So the only thing which had changed since she had come out several hours ago was the position of the stars in the sky. The light was exactly as before. It seemed that time stood still on Valhai, because there was nothing to separate day from night, nothing to mark the passage of time.

She needed to work out what the code could be. But she was too tired to do anything about that now. She jotted down the sequence which had been repeated to her so often, and then went to her bed chamber. It was time to rest.

SIX LAY IN bed talking to Diva. They had got into the habit now of speaking to each other for ten minutes or so before they went to sleep, each in their respective bubble. Under the cover of the top blanket of orthogel they were able to push down on the surface of the bed without the movement being seen from any possible cameras. Six thought it was unlikely Atheron would invigilate them when they were supposedly sleeping, but he wasn’t going to take any chances either.

It was amazing how fast they were able to communicate with each other. Their fingers flashed as the spelled out the words, gradually using a shorthand to make the conversation even quicker.

“How are the classes with Atheron?” signed Diva.

“He puts on that patient, long-suffering face, and I want to kick his virtual teeth down his virtual throat.”

“Virtually impossible!”

“Ha! I fell on the D2 square the other day. Atheron was most displeased. No commontime for two months.”

“I failed relativity basics. No commontime for three months.”

“That false smile of his makes me want to puke!”

“Know just what you mean. If he had been one of my father’s subjects we would have had him set in a wall.”

“Set in a wall?”

“Common people who break the law are set into special rexelene blocks which are transparent. Then we use the blocks to build museums, and charge people to look at all the dead criminals.”

“And I thought Kwaide was diabolic! Even they haven’t thought of charging to look at dead people. Yet.”

“Very profitable.”

“I can imagine. Bit gruesome though, don’t you think?”

“It’s a good deterrent.”

Six shivered. “I can see it would be. It sure deters me from going to Coriolis!”

“It’s only for common people.”

“You can’t get much more common than me!”

“Very true. Never mind, no-name, if we ever go to Coriolis I will make sure they don’t set you into a rexelene block.”

“How generous! It doesn’t seem very likely we ever will.”

“No, … I wish,” Diva admitted. It was the closest she had ever come to showing debility.

“Homesick?” he asked.

“Certainly not,” she signed back. “That would be weak.”

“And you never show weakness.”

“Only ordinary people show weakness.”

“Like me?”

“Exactly. Though now I come to think about it, you don’t show weakness either.”

“Is that a compliment from the great Diva?”

“I suppose it is.”

“I am flattered.”

“Don’t be, I didn’t mean it.”

“Goodnight, Diva.”

“Goodnight.”

THE FOLLOWING MORNING Six found himself facing Atheron again for another long school day. He had made up his mind to become proactive in his education. He was going to slant things towards the subjects he thought might be useful to him, as far as he could. It was one way to make sure he was ready when the opportunity came.

“I’d like to study Sell,” he said.

“The history?”

Six nodded. “And the language.”

Atheron frowned, which was surprising because his permanent school expression was a smile. “No foreigner may speak Sell.”

“Why not?”

“It is not permitted. It carries the death penalty for the foreigner, and also for the Sellite who taught him the language.”

“Seems a bit drastic?”

Atheron stiffened. “It was so decided at the First Valhai Votation. No Sellite would think to question the Votation.”

“Really? So you use a language only … a few hundred people speak?”

“Quite so. There are five hundred Sell skyrises and about four to five live members in each on average, so there must be about two thousand two hundred Sells in total.”

“And you all have to learn the other Almagest languages?”

“Of course. At least, the males do. It is considered unnecessary for the females.”

“So you will teach me Xianthan and Cesan, but never Sell?”

Atheron nodded. “And Coriolan, if you wish.”

“I’d like that.” If he
had
to learn something all day, he’d rather it was something that might come in useful one day. It would be impressive to be able to surprise Diva by speaking to her in her own language. That would show her what a Kwaidian no-name could do! Pity about the Sell, though. They might need it if they were ever to escape from Valhai. He would just have to make do with Sell history. He settled down to his classes in a more positive frame of mind than he had had previously. If he was going to have to spend all day every day swotting, he might as well make good use of it. Not that he had a lot of choice in the matter. Six gave a sigh. And he’d complained about his lot before coming here. If ever there had been a kid who knew nothing! Nothing. He scratched his head and turned his attention back to Atheron.

DIVA FOUND HERSELF falling over her own feet in the musical squares. “You people do this for pleasure?” she panted.

“It is considered a great art.” Atheron said. “But all Sells are taught the basics, and must be at the least competent on the squares.”

“I get my legs all tangled up.”

“Yes. You are, of course, slightly taller than the Sellites, which makes the process rather more difficult for you. Nevertheless, all candidates are expected to master the squares, since the Sellites brought them over from their original world, Cesis. Any Cesan investor would expect you to be moderately proficient in the art of square music.”

“I still don’t know what it is they are going to invest in?” She made it a question.

Atheron seemed to hesitate.

“I think I have a right to know,” she said.

“They invest in … you.”

“Me?” She moved her head back in surprise.

“If there is an investor who is sufficiently impressed by you, they will come to an agreement with us for your … genetic material.”

Diva opened her eyes wide. “My genetic material?”

“Exactly. Some time ago there were a series of flares on Almagest, and both the Cian moons were irradiated. Most people survived, but the damage became clear in further generations. So it is in their interests to combine genetic material from Sacras, which was not affected by the flares, and help to palliate the effects of the radiation damage.”

“And the Sellites?” Diva asked

“We were not affected. At least, those of us on Valhai were not affected. The vast majority have been cleared, and we have a large enough gene pool for the small damage sustained to be eliminated.”

“So I am for sale, is that it?”

“Not exactly. We sell all your oocytes. All you girls are born with about five hundred thousand egg cells. We simply remove them, and process them to be merged with other races. Most beneficial.”

Diva was horrified. “You mean you are going to use my … egg cells to found a race?”

“Hardly that. At most, to genetically improve one.”

Diva was revolted. “And if I don’t want any of this?” It came out before she could remember to measure her words.

“You signed the apprenticeship agreement. It isn’t actually up to
you
to decide your future, you know.”

“So you deal in people. You are slavers.”

The grey-haired man narrowed his eyes. “I will try to forget you said that. But there
might
not
be commontime.” He gave a thin smile, and looked pleased with himself.

“And if nobody picks me?” Diva demanded, unimpressed by the threat. “What happens then?”

“I’m sure you needn’t worry about that,” he said, looking away evasively.

Great! She nodded to herself. She knew none of the candidates had ever made it back to Coriolis, so it wasn’t looking too good for the candidates who were rejected by the “buyers”. She didn’t think the Sellites would be too pleased with them. It didn’t seem likely that they would become new citizens of Sell. So what did happen to them? And if she
were
accepted they would rip her open, remove all possibility of ever having children with a husband of her choice, and use her to found some sort of hybrid race.

“Why don’t you just clone them?” she asked.

“Because cloning techniques wouldn’t work in this case. Genetic damage would replicate more readily in a limited gene pool. And our technology has not advanced enough for us to be able to remove the impaired genes artificially.”

“I see.” Diva felt sick. She had thought the Sellites were hugely more advanced than the Coriolans and yet … the whole process she was being submitted to seemed coldly manipulative. She couldn’t see where their great “wisdom” was, where they showed their superior knowledge, superior morality and advancement along the evolutionary scale of things.

“If the egg cells are present at birth why do I have to learn all this stuff for so many years?” she asked.

Atheron gave one of his smiles to indicate he thought it was a good question to ask. “You are quite right. Clearly none of this extra knowledge will affect the egg cells at all. But it
does
affect the investor, we have found. People are far more likely to invest, and invest more, in your genetic material if they perceive you to be an exceptional student with wide knowledge.” He lifted up one finger. “Although, as you know, we do not forgo physical development, which is also of great importance to a possible investor.”

Diva felt hot anger run right through her. If only she could fry Atheron with a look. She visualized him disappearing in a puff of smoke. It was a pleasurable thought.

“So you see how important it is for you to really excel at your studies.” Atheron slapped his hands to sides of his chair and looked satisfied.

She tried not to shudder. “I do.” This man was convinced he was doing her some kind of favour! He could see only good in shutting someone up in a bubble for two years. And at the end of it all they were planning to slice her up and sell off body parts. Privately she thought their own genetic structure might need a makeover.

THAT NIGHT SHE signed Six about it, explaining in painstaking length what she had found out. His fingers faltered as the import of her words sank in.

“So what happens to us? Do they give us away with the genetic material? As some sort of … back up? Buy five hundred thousand, get one free?”

“I don’t know! He just said they take all the egg cells. At least in the girls’ case; I didn’t ask about the boys.”

“Fine. That makes me feel very secure. They probably put us on display steeped in formaldehyde!”

“Probably. And don’t forget, that prospect is only for the lucky ones, the ones who are chosen as
Valhai
. Atheron didn’t even want to tell me what would happen to the others, the ones who weren’t chosen.”

Their hands were quiet for a few minutes as they thought about that. In her own room Diva covered her eyes with her hands and rubbed them. It made no difference at all, she still felt totally drained of emotion.

“I wish we
could
escape,” she muttered to herself.

“We’ll just have to break out.” Six’s words came almost at the same time as her wish. “No point hanging around here for the next twelve months if the best thing that can happen to us after all that is being sliced up like a temaris tree.”

“We made an oath. We can’t,” Diva replied. “Think about the people back on Kwaide and Coriolis. Oh, but I wish we could …”

“We’ll find a way. And the Elders can come over here and take our places. By Lumina, I’d enjoy seeing that!”

Diva smiled. She knew how he felt, but she also knew that she shouldn’t let her family down. Their future depended on her behaviour. No, she would never be able to escape.

Six seemed to sense what she was thinking, for he finished the conversation tersely. “Just wait and see!”