Authors: Ru Emerson,A. C. Crispin
thicknesses of clear plassteel and the interrelator automatically held out a hand to steady her if her vertigo had kicked in. But the translator was staring avidly, hands pressed against the wall, her eyes bright with tears. Alexis glanced quickly toward the crew--they appeared much too busy to worry about the mural--then moved over to the second port.
The background was a brilliant red that could supposedly be seen from the ground, with a good pair of lenses. There were the Holy Two in long hooded robes, creating life: fruiting trees, gray-brown, horned herd-beasts that reminded Alexis of wildebeests, and others that looked more like giant fanged and tailless lizards. Near the far end of the mural, as the ship swung around, she could just make out the two Arekkhi, a black-spotted male with a broad, sharply denned nasal stripe; the female slightly smaller, her stripes and spots a little fainter, her ear tufts highly visible--both covered in short, sleeveless singlets.
How odd,
she thought suddenly.
I've never seen so
much as Khyriz's forearm, and not much of Shiksara's arms, either.
Was the current fashion modesty--or a change brought about by the drapers' guild to sell more cloth?
A sidelong glance at Magdalena showed the younger woman still
motionless, only her eyes flicking across the mural. Alexis turned back to study the two Arekkhi as closely as she could. A small, round-eared creature something like a ring-tailed cat crouched at the female's feet--it wasn't an immature Arekkhi... she'd seen pictures of the young. So what was it? Next to the creature were two more thickly branched trees, heavy with long white fruit.
The two humans watched the enormous mural until it was no longer visible, and the ship slowed as it headed toward openings in the station. Behind them, Magdalena could hear communication coming up from the station. "I think we'd probably better go strap in; sounds like we're about that far 63
from landing." Alexis nodded and paused just long enough to gesture a
"thumbs up" of thanks to the harassed-looking human navigator who grinned briefly before returning to his boards. The two women walked down the short corridor to the Crew's Mess, where the landing seats assigned them were located.
Magdalena's fingers moved automatically, deftly getting the straps on the high-backed, padded chair locked in correctly-- her thoughts were some distance away, down on the station, on the other side of the docking bay.
I
wonder if he's there.
At her side, Alexis leaned back comfortably watching the view-screen as the small ship maneuvered slowly, finally easing into the bay. Engines cut off, all motion ceased. She glanced at her companion, but Magdalena hadn't even noticed. Just as well. Shiksara had warned them that docking at station could be rough, and it took time. Alexis stretched out her shoulders, got comfortable in the cushy chair, and prepared to wait.
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CHAPTER 4
***
Magdalena fought the urge to pace.
You don't want Alexis thinking she
picked the wrong translator, do you, Perez?
Finally, the All Clear flashed again and the door slid aside. Magdalena hauled a blue duffel over her shoulder, picked up the squashy carry-bag.
"Guess--that's our call." She swore mentally; her voice sounded much too high.
Alexis scooped up her own pair of well-worn bags--the StarBridge logo of a rainbow joining two worlds was beginning to fade--and gave her a warm smile. "You aren't worried, are you?" The other girl shook her head. "Oh--
wait. I forgot; you don't like the transition walks, do you?"
"Not really. It's a long drop if that first step isn't there," Magdalena reminded her. At least she was trying to be funny, Alexis decided. The Russian woman laughed as she strode toward the main ramp, which was now completely surrounded by black tunnel.
Three Arekkhi were waiting for them in the echoing hangar: two dockworkers stacking containers on a flat carrier, and a slender male in a black pilot's jumpsuit. Magdalena's heart leaped: Was it Khyriz? But as she emerged from the chill of the tunnel, she could see that while he resembled her friend in height and build, this was a stranger.
You knew Khyriz
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probably couldn't come.
Politics and safety--he'd mentioned both in the last sealed message he'd sent her, just before the ship left Academy space. It was still a disappointment not to see his familiar face and share the greeting gesture that was theirs alone.
What did you expect? This is what happens
when you plan something out in such wishful-thinking detail,
she chided herself, and handed over her bags to the two rough-clad Arekkhi males in charge of an outsider low-grav carrier. Most of their other luggage had already been stacked.
She glanced casually at the workers and away, so they wouldn't think she was staring: The two wore loose trousers and jackets with the station patch on the band collar. This was very new: The latest Heeyoon vid from the station had shown such workers still in loose robes, the long sleeves snugged to the forearms. And the black jumpsuit...
Practical, sure. But the
Arekkhi place style over practicality, and for at least a hundred years they've
worn those long, loose robes that cover everything but their fingers and
heads.
She wondered how much Khyriz had to do with this: The black suit was cut along the same lines as a StarBridge student's jumpsuit.
Alexis had crossed to greet the young male--and give the baggage handlers a chance to look them over. Magdalena followed, smiling as much in Arekkhi fashion as a human could (no bared teeth; like the Simiu, the ancient Arekkhi had viewed teeth as a threat or challenge; it was still rude to expose one's incisors) and returned his gesture of "One who is pleased to make a new acquaintance." His speaking voice was higher than Khyriz's and more reedy; his first words--surprisingly-- were English. "I am Bhelan, pilot to Prince Khyriz. He bids me welcome you to Arekkhi." One pointed ear flicked and he added in Arekkhi, "Apologies. I know no other human words."
"Thank you for the greeting. Your accent is very good," Alexis replied in fluent Arekkhi, and Bhelan visibly relaxed. It was a polite lie, of course; but without human lips Arekhi simply couldn't produce certain sounds.
"My thanks, Interrelator Alexis. I am told your ship was informed that the master of station will not be available to
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greet you. His sorrow if you perceive a slight."
"Of course not," Alexis replied promptly. Frankly, Magdalena thought, they would have been surprised if the station master
had
come out to greet them: Most of those chosen to serve this sector of station supposedly tested low on xenophobic scales, but the master of station was a distant cousin of Duke Zhenu (who'd gained the appointment because of his bloodlines), and the aging male supposedly shared his noble cousin's disdain of outsiders.
"These"--Bhelan indicated the cart attendants with a wave of his hand--"will remain to fetch your goods. If it pleases you to ride, there is another vehicle that can be brought. Apologies that your ship must dock in this sector, and mine is housed a long distance away--it is that the outsider ships need special attachings, and any royal shuttle must rest in special security and its own bay. I can carry those bags if you wish."
"No need," Alexis said. Arekkhi shoulders were somewhere between cat and human in forward placement; a medium burden for a human would be an uncomfortable weight to a similar-size Arekkhi.
"No apology needed," Magdalena said. "We understand the needs of your station and the safety of your Emperor. And after so many days inside that small ship, I would prefer to walk. We'd like to see as much of the station as we can." Bhelan's whiskers flattened to his face so briefly that Magdalena wondered if she'd imagined the pilot's discomfort. But Alexis glanced at her and raised an eyebrow as Bhelan turned away to speak to the cart
attendants, one of whom pulled a small corn-link from a pocketlike sleeve patch. Bhelan spoke into it at some length, too softly for either woman to understand, then returned it to its owner and came back to join them.
"A small matter--please, if you will excuse me." A wide door in the far wall slid open; the pilot walked quickly through it and into another lock, bounded by a high clear wall. Magdalena caught a tantalizing glimpse of the curved world of the station beyond, before the door slid closed once more.
"So--what was all
that
about?" Alexis spoke Mizari, keeping her voice inflexionless and her expression neutral as she stepped into the open. The two attendants were already pulling
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the cart toward the foot of the ramp where the last of the luggage had been deposited. "The look on his face--like he was scared."
"You don't suppose they're going to restrict
us
the way they do the Heeyoon Trading Coalition?" Magdalena returned in the same language. "I thought Dr. Rob said that had been worked out."
"He did." Alexis glanced up as the final bags were stacked and the attendants began lashing everything down with pale-colored webbing. "And I glanced over the documentation before we ever left StarBridge, that particular matter's under control."
"Even though we aren't meeting with the stationmaster," Magdalena said.
Alexis shook her head and glanced toward the closed doorway where Bhelan had gone. "Well, I wasn't surprised. Were you?"
"Considering he's the Iron Duke's cousin? No. But a member of his staff, just for appearances ..."
"Well, there's the unspoken part of it," Alexis said dryly. "Though they certainly made it clear enough: The implied insult if a minor station dignitary met us before the Emperor did."
"I guess. But what does that make Bhelan?"
"A servant, and therefore beneath anyone's notice, including ours." Alexis gave her a sidelong, keen glance. "Does anything feel wrong to you? The way he moved, or gestured?"
"Not that way, no," Magdalena assured her CLS companion.
Alexis's most recent lover had been a telepath, a young woman from Jolie.
Marie-Claire had been fascinated by Magdalena's odd talent for "reading"
body language and expression and had persuaded her still-dubious partner that it
was
an authentic talent, even if it didn't work the way telepathy did.
"Just--it sounds like the kind of neatly tailored lie an Arekkhi politician would create." She managed a crooked grin. "I'm being paranoid, sorry."
"Doesn't mean they aren't out to get you," Alexis replied with a quiet laugh.
"But I don't think there's a problem, really.
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If there is one, we'll find out, soon enough. But since you and I are a wholly new life form here, it could be they're trying to avoid panic on-station. I'll wager you that conveyance to Bhelan's shuttle is fully enclosed."
"Mmmmm--maybe."
"And if he gets us clearance to walk, I'll also wager there won't be a living soul between us and the Emperor's shuttle, once we get out of this air lock,"
Alexis added; she gripped Magdalena's arm as the other girl swallowed, hard. "Sorry, forgot you don't like the 'a' word."
"Air lock? I'm all right," Magdalena managed.
"Well, we'll be just fine," Alexis reiterated. "And there should be a few Arekkhi up here like those two," her eyes slid sideways, indicating the baggage handlers who were clamping the last mesh ends over the high pile of luggage; both males eyed the outsiders avidly whenever they dared take their eyes off their work. "And remember, we aren't the Heeyoon traders up here; we're going to be based on-world, and we get to talk to anyone we want."
The Arekkhi government had been firm about the traders: The few Heeyoons permitted to deal here were limited to their own small, openly marked, quadrant of station. The only time they'd actually been down to the planet was for a reception at the Emperor's palace, and a very brief tour of the city of Ebba and the lands about it.
"Well, the argument
does
make sense," Magdalena pointed out. "I mean, look what happened with the Na-Dina! The way that combine just moved in before the CLS could even establish a contact! If the Arekkhi heard anything about that..."
"Oh, I agree with you. And, of course, it's good sense for the CLS to really regulate trade here--the way the Arekkhi go for personal possessions,"
Alexis said. "The black market in rare things like Rigellan sculpture would be--well, incredible, wouldn't it? Your argument--the Arekkhi argument--is just fine. If only I didn't feel there was more involved. Arekkhi politics," she added with a faint sigh.
Magdalena grinned wickedly. "One good twist behind the first one, and two more behind that. But they can't use the same argument on
us.
After all, we're here to help them set
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up this trade they supposedly want so badly, and besides--" The door hissed behind them; Bhelan, his ears canted sideways as if he'd just finished a monumental argument, was with them once more. "We can go now, if you like. On foot," he said. "The luggage cart will go on ahead to my shuttle.
Unless you would rather remain here to be certain of your goods?"
"No, that's fine. Let's go, now," Alexis replied promptly. She walked into the backup lock next to the pilot; Magdalena fell in behind them and a little to one side, her eyes moving constantly, one ear half-tuned to the conversation just ahead of her.
The station itself was a wonder to look at--surprisingly like old Earth renderings she'd seen of space colonies.
Given physics as a constant, what
would you expect?
she asked herself. The vast station was an enormous tube, mostly open space, occupied by buildings and parklike spaces all the way around. Floors looked and felt flat underfoot, but curved to right and left, meeting overhead. Since their ship had landed near one end, only the closest kilometers--including a vast lake that apparently wrapped all the way around the tube--were visible. Beyond that, things were fuzzy with distance and atmosphere, and dwindled to a point. After her first, dizzying glance overhead, Magdalena swore she wouldn't look higher than the shrubs and low structures around them.
It
looks
flat--stick with that, all right, Perez?