“From the Queen.” Jerusha’s mouth twitched, remembering the royal display of hypocrisy that she had endured during her most recent official visit.
“I can’t understand that, Inspector.” He shook his head. “I thought she wanted all the high technology she could get her hands on for Tiamat; she’s always talking up technological independence. She wouldn’t care whether it was illegal. Hell, I expect shed prefer it that way.”
“She doesn’t care about Tiamat or technology or anything else, except in relation to how they affect her own position. And some of the contraband goods have been getting in her way lately.”
“Hard to imagine how.” Gundhalinu changed position carefully behind the controls.
“Not all the customers of the trade are harmless cranks.” She had read reports on smuggling in the Winter outback with interest and more than a little sympathy: The few independent smugglers’ ships that managed to penetrate the Hegemony’s planetary surveillance net could make a small fortune on a cargo of information tapes and tech manuals, power cells and hard-to-come-by components. There were always wealthy Winter nobles with an obsession about what made things shine and hidden labs on their island estates; self-styled mad scientists trying to crack the secrets of the atom and the universe. There were others privately stockpiling technology against the coming off worlder departure, too; planning to set up their own little fiefdoms, and never realizing that the Hegemony had its way of making sure they didn’t. There were even a few off worlders who had gone native living out here in this wilderness of water, and not all of them liked the restrictions the Hedge put on their adopted home.
“Somebody’s been harassing Starbuck and the Hounds when they go mer hunting, and I gather they’ve been having too much success. The mer population must be pretty well depleted by now; it must be cutting into the Queen’s profits… and her measure of control over us. The interference involves some sophisticated jamming devices and comm gear, and there’s only one place that it could be coming from.”
“Hmm. So if we arrest any smugglers, we might get a lead on who’s doing the harassing?” He shifted restlessly again.
“Maybe. I’m not holding my breath. This whole trip is a waste of energy, as far as I can see.” And that’s just what LiouxSked intended it to be. “Frankly, I hope we don’t find anything. Does it shock you, BZ?” She grinned briefly at his expression. “You know, I hate to admit it, but sometimes I have trouble convincing myself these tech runners are doing anything wrong. Or that anybody who objects to cutting one species’ life short so that another species can stretch out its own abnormally is in the wrong, either. Sometimes I think that everything that disgusts me about Carbuncle is tied to the water of life. That the city draws rottenness and corruption because its survival depends on a corrupt act.”
“Would you still feel that way if you could afford immortality, Inspector?”
She looked up, hesitated. “I’d like to think I wouldn’t feel any different. But I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
Gundhalinu nodded, and shrugged. “I don’t suppose either one of us will ever get to find out.” He changed position again, glanced down at the chronometer.
“What’s the matter, BZ?”
“Nothing, ma’am.” He gazed out at the sea with stoic Kharemoughi propriety. “Something I should have done before we left the city.” He sighed, and picked up his book.
11
“You travel awfully light. You sure you’re going to get all the way to Carbuncle from here, with nothing but the clothes on your back?” Ngenet pressed a long finger into the lock on the hovercraft’s door while Moon stood looking out over the harbor. They had covered the distance from Neith in hours instead of days. Her knees were weak with the unbelievable fact of her presence in this distant place.
“What?… Oh, I’ll be all right. I’ll crew with some trader from here — there must be a hundred ships in this bay!” Shotover Bay would have swallowed the harbor at Neith, and the village, and half of the island, with no trouble. The setting suns broke through clouds, scattered chips of ruby across the water surface; ships of all sizes rode high on the tide’s flow. Some had an alien ness of form that she couldn’t put a name to. Some were mast less she wondered whether they had been caught in a storm.
“A lot of Winter ships use engines, you know. A lot of them don’t even use sail at all. Will they take you on?” Ngenet’s brusque questioning tapped her on the shoulder again, as she suddenly understood why there were no masts. During their arrow’s flight across the sea she had not learned much about him except that he didn’t like to talk about himself; but his curt inquiries about her journey told her more than he knew.
“I’m not afraid of engines. And the work will be the same; there’s only so much you can do on a ship.” She smiled, hoping it was true. She ran her hand along the hovercraft’s chill metal skin, struggling against the fresh awareness that it could have taken her to Sparks in less than a day… Her smile faded.
“Well, you just make sure you find yourself a ship run by females. Some of the Winter men have picked up bad habits from the star port scum.”
“I don’t — Oh.” She nodded, remembering why her grandmother had told her to stay off the traders’ ships. “I’ll do that.” Even though she was certain that Ngenet was an off worlder he spoke as if his people meant no more to him than Summers or Winters seemed to. She hadn’t asked him why; she was no longer afraid of his surliness, but she wasn’t ready to impose on it. “And I want to thank—”
He frowned across the harbor at the sunset. “No time for that. I’m half a day late for this meeting as it is. So you just—”
“Hey, honey cake ditch that old man an’ let us show you a good time!” One of the two Winter males who had been weaving toward them along the quay angled closer, grinning appreciatively, arms out. But as she reached for a biting reply Moon saw his expression change. He pulled his companion into a precarious veer away, muttered something close to the other’s ear. They hurried on, looking back.
“H-how did they know?” Moon’s hands pressed against her slicker front.
“Know what?” The frown was still on Ngenet’s face, etching deeper, as he watched them go.
“That I’m a sibyl.” She reached down inside and brought the trefoil out on its chain.
“You’re a what?” He turned back to her, actually took the trefoil into his hands as if he had to prove its reality. He dropped it again, hastily. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Well, I didn’t… I mean, I—”
“That settles it.” He wasn’t listening. “You’re not staying here alone overnight. You can come with me; Elsie’ll understand.” His hand closed around her upper arm; he pulled her after him across the expanse of paving toward the quay’s town side
“Where are we going? Wait!” Moon stumbled after him with impotent anger as he strode toward the nearest street entrance. She saw light blossom at the top of a slender pole, and then another and another ahead of them, immense flame less candles. “I don’t understand.” She dropped her voice, “Do you believe in the Lady?”
“No, but I believe in you.” He guided them onto a sidewalk.
“You’re an off worlder
“That’s right, I am.”
“But, I thought—”
“Don’t ask, just walk. There’s nothing strange about it.” He let go of her arm; she kept up with him.
“Aren’t you afraid of me, then?”
He shook his head. “Just don’t fall down and skin your knee, or I might worry some.” She looked at him blankly.