“Here, Sencho, here are the ones who need us most. Their oxygen, water, and food is ebbing away like the outgoing tide. Even the Firearrow ’s corpse will not shield them from the Khaid much longer.”
He turned to find De Molay regarding him pensively. “You don’t intend to leave a single man behind, do you?” she asked. “Even if this means risking nearly two hundred lives you’ve already saved and this fine ship you’ve taken?”
“It is not my ship,” Hadeishi replied absently. “I cannot be held to account for its loss. But there are skilled officers and men out there waiting to die in the dark, either by fire or from cold, and their spirits will weigh heavy upon me if I do not try.”
“Even if they would leave you behind without a second thought?”
Hadeishi gave her a sidelong look. The rest of the men and women on the bridge had paused in their work and were listening intently-though, out of deference to the two senior officers, not openly. Save Lovelace, of course, who was just staring at the two of them in dismay.
Mitsuharu tapped the helmet ring of his captured Khaiden armor, which he had not had time to take off since boarding the Kader. “I am already dead,” he said quietly. “While they still live and breathe. I would keep grave-dust from their mouths as long as I can. In this way, even a spirit can serve.”
De Molay made a disbelieving face. “I do not understand this fatalism, Chu-sa. It is not my way.”
Hadeishi spared a moment to regard Tocoztic, who had taken the weapons officer’s station. The young man looked pale, trying to escape notice by shrinking down into his seat. “With time and experience, that which was once obscure becomes clear,” Hadeishi said softly. Then he picked up his stylus, eyes again fixed upon the little display, his whole attention focused on the tactical puzzle before him.
Though proper quarters had been provided for him, Prince Xochitl remained in Secondary Command, staring fixedly at the incomprehensibly large shape of the artifact four thousand kilometers from their bow, and doodling on his console. Doctor Anderssen and a rotating set of sensor techs and weapons officers had been working through all of the data captured by Konev’s shuttle before its destruction, along with everything else flowing into their limited set of radiation-hardened sensors.
Chu-sa Kosho, who seemed to have taken up permanent residence in Main Command, had directed the technical team to modify one of the remotely controlled bots used for hull repairs and use the resulting “probe” to plumb the convoluted architecture of the structure without loss of life.
Xochitl found it interesting, in a nasty way, that the Nisei officer was concerned for the life of even the least of her crewmen. Yakka won’t last long in the Fleet, he decided, without someone to sponsor her. I wonder… He paused a moment, half expecting his exo to kick in and present a list of advantages and disadvantages accrued by his patronage. When nothing happened, Xochitl felt the absence as a kind of unquenchable hunger, twisting his stomach into emptiness. He had not realized, having the exo present his entire adult life, how heavily he relied on the device.
My eyes are flawless, the Prince reminded himself, but how do I see when the world around me is not annotated, described, outlined? It was difficult for him to even navigate the hallways of the ship-no map presented itself, directing his steps, and the kanji -lettered signs and warnings were unreadable. Xochitl was a little stunned to realize that he did not actually know the meanings of all of the rank badges, flashes, and glyphs which informed the knowing observer of all of the hierarchies and authorities within the Fleet. Exo had always been whispering in his mind, guiding his interactions with the military, with the provincial governors, with-with everyone in his life.
I’m a cripple. The thought was bitter ash in his mouth. While the Hjo remains in my proximity.
This, Xochitl realized, was both the core of the problem and the obvious solution. He stood up abruptly and paced over to the xenoarchaeologist at the comm station.
“Follow me,” he said before turning away, scanning the doors leading off of Secondary Command for a room which would suffice. There! Thank Yacatecuhtli, Guide of the Lost, that someone’s put up a sign in Nahuatl!
Xochitl gestured for Anderssen to enter the conference room, and then closed the door lightly behind them. She sat on the edge of a fine-looking red mahogany table which made a hollow circle. The base apparatus for a holocast projector filled the center of the room. Gretchen looked the Prince up and down with open interest, wondering what was on his mind. Something is, for certain. Then she narrowed her eyes, trying to gain a sense of him, wondering if her gift-if it was a gift, and not the product of drugs or the unknown influence of the Adh’atr -would work on a person as well as a potsherd.
Xochitl said nothing, leaning against a cedar-paneled wall ornamented with recessed watercolor paintings of flowers-they looked like pansies to Anderssen’s eye, but she was no expert on the flora of old Earth-and scowling at her with a disturbingly unblinking gaze.
This is very strange, Gretchen thought-but she played along, saying nothing, idly kicking her feet and trying not to fidget. She felt the desire to be back at her console, digging through the reams of 3-v data, or the spatial model, or measurements of the enormous structure, as a physical pain. But still, she waited.
After quite a long time, the door recessed into the wall with a soft chuff and Chu-sa Kosho stepped in, her white dress uniform as immaculate as ever, her fine-boned face perfectly composed.
Seeing her, the Prince snorted rather rudely in amusement and then lifted his chin at Anderssen.
“This is the one who led you through the Barrier?”
Kosho paused at the edge of the conference table, regarding him levelly, and then nodded slightly.
“Then we have a problem,” he declared. “The Naniwa must leave this area immediately. My noble guest, the sian-fengh, has made his desire to flee very clear. I cannot refuse him. Yakka, I need you to keep a close eye on him for me. He’s truculent, difficult and, as you saw-unexpectedly dangerous, but I don’t think he’ll give you much trouble if you put a nargile and some opium back in his hands.”
“Where are you going?” Kosho clasped both hands behind her back, falling into an easy parade rest.
Xochitl smiled, showing a large number of perfectly formed white teeth. “I’ve been thinking about what you said before, about my father-I’m going to do exactly as he asked. I’m taking that little merchant ship in the rear cargo hold and staying behind, while you return to the Barrier wall. I understand she’s well shielded, and won’t cost you something off your manifest if we suffer the same fate as that cargo shuttle.”
He tapped the side of his head sharply. “Find us a way out, Yakka. We have to get out of here before we starve or are baked inside the shipskin, and there’s no sense in you wasting time here while we poke and pry.”
“Thus your problem,” Kosho said coolly. “I’ll need Anderssentzin and her comp models to find a way out, but you can’t get inside the artifact without her. She can’t be in both places at once, can she?”
The Prince nodded, clapping his hands lightly together. “That would seem a puzzle, save I have an answer.” He smiled tightly at the Chu-sa, an expression which made the little hairs on Gretchen’s neck rise.