Dawnwind 1: Last Man Standing (20 page)

Imzo rolled his eyes.
 
“Merciful pantheon!
 
I thought it was something more serious than that!”

John’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
 
“You’re not shocked?”

The peacekeeper snorted.
 
“I’ve been keeping the peace for almost forty years.
 
I’ve heard much worse stories.
 
Trust me on that.
 
How did they get the theft report on the transport cancelled?”

“Oh. Ur. That was sort of my doing.”

Imzo raised a thin red eyebrow.
 
“What did you do?”

“I had Kaz call the family and tell them if they didn’t cancel the theft report, he and Sef would go on the public infonet and reveal their relationship.”

The peacekeeper chuckled.
 
“I bet that didn’t go down smooth.”

“No,” said John.
 
“Not at first, but when the family saw that they were serious, they gave in.”
 
He shrugged.
 
“Kaz sweetened the deal by promising that he and Sef wouldn’t go back to White Hill.”

“White Hill, eh?”
 
Imzo looked thoughtful.
 
“Well, that explains a lot.”

“It does?”

“White Hill is a Static enclave, full of malcontents and retrograders.”
 
He saw the blank look on Epcott’s face and explained.
 
“Imbeciles who think that the world either shouldn’t change or should go back to simpler times.”
 
He snorted and John thought that if Imzo hadn’t been wearing the warmsuit helmet, the man would have spat.

The human took a moment to process this new information.
 
“Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised.”

“What?
 
You think our culture is perfect, John?
 
That all Junians are one big, happy family?”

“Yes?”

The peacekeeper laughed.
 
It was a bitter sound.
 
“That’s naive of you.
 
I’d expect better.
 
We have our problems like every other culture.
 
I just thank the gods that our criminals and malcontents are a very small minority!”

“Are you going to have to change your report now?”

“Lonely souls, no!
 
What good would it do to haul everybody involved before an arbitrator?
 
Sounds to me as if things have resolved themselves to everybody’s satisfaction.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I’m surprised.
 
I didn’t think policemen could be so flexible.”

Imzo shrugged.
 
“I’m a peacekeeper, not a policeman.
 
We keep the peace.
 
To do that, you have to be flexible.
 
You can’t apply the law to every situation in the same way, any more than you can shove every person into the same size clothing.”

“That’s a very enlightened attitude, Imzo.”

The peacekeeper shrugged.
 
“Funny.
 
It just seems sensible to me.”

* * * * *

 
The peacekeepers had gone, the hold of their massive craft filled with the wreckage from the transport and the crushed illuminator-tower.
 
Now, a much smaller craft stood in the airfield, its silver hull gleaming in the afternoon’s dying sunlight.
 
Its hatch slid open and Ked hopped out, giving the airfield a curious look.
 
As part of their retrieval operation, the peacekeeper cadets had used portable thermal emitters to melt the snow, exposing the coarse, concrete-like material that made up the actual landing field.

“Heard there was some excitement out here,” Ked said, as the little group at the edge of the field approached.

Back in his hot pink warmsuit, minus the helmet, Epcott rolled his eyes.
 
“Nothing travels faster than gossip.”

“Is that another human saying?” asked Sef.

Uqqex laughed.
 
“More like a universal axiom, I think.”

Sef smiled and headed toward the hatch.
 
Tijo was cradled in her arms, bundled up in a thermal cloak and starting to fuss.
 
Ked helped them into the transport.

Kaz hesitated, turning to Epcott.
 
“Thank you.
 
For everything.”

“You’re welcome.
 
I hope things work out for you.”

The youth nodded, and then hurried to join his family inside the vehicle.
 
Epcott turned to Uqqex.
 
She was back in her hooded travel-cloak, her dark hair spilling around her face.

“This weekend was more eventful than I had planned,” he said, wryly.

Uqqex chuckled.
 
“What’s that the Junians are always saying?
 
The gods like their little jokes?”

“Something like that.”
 
He smiled at her.
 
“You know, you never told me what you thought of my plan.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No.”

“I think the Guard would be lucky to have you,” said Uqqex.

John raised his eyebrows.
 
“Honestly?”

“Yes.”
 
She grinned, showing sharp teeth.
 
“And I think this would be a good thing for you.”
 
Turning, she waved a hand at the knotlimbs surrounding the airfield.
 
“You’ve made a place for yourself here, John, but it’s too isolated.”
 
Gently, she laid her hand on his shoulder.
 
“You may not be Junian, but you still need other people.
 
Living here, interacting with the world through comms, surrounding yourself with monuments to your old world?
 
That’s no way to live.
 
You need to move forward, to step into the world and build a proper life for yourself.
 
The Guard may be the best way for you to do that.”

He smiled, a little sadly, then leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
 
“Like I said, the most honest person I know.”

She laughed and shook her head.
 
“Such a romantic!”
 

Leaning forward, she gave him a proper kiss.
 
Despite being taken by surprise, John reacted automatically, returning the kiss.
 
Uqqex tasted vaguely like chocolate.
 
When they separated, both of them were flushed and keenly aware of Ked, standing by the transport’s hatch, gaping at them.

Uqqex grinned.
 
“Let’s see if they keep calling you the Lonely Heart after that!”

Epcott just laughed.

Clearsky

5819

Junian Calendar

“Napiso is little more than a rock,” declaimed Jusip Val.
 
“It orbits a dim red giant in what passes for the habitable zone.
 
The planet has a thin atmosphere, a gravity that’s barely half-standard, and its surface is frequently bathed in intense radiation from the star.
 
There is no native life, not even soil bacteria.”

“But there’s a colony there,” said Nutip Fe, First Officer of the
Harmonious Maiden
.

Jusip Val nodded.
 
“Seven hundred sixty-one people, First.”

“Why?”

The First Scientist grinned.
 
“Vepucite.”

Nutip’s brow furrowed.
 
“You’re joking.”

“Not at all,” said Jusip Val.
 
“Vepucite was discovered there over seventy-nine years ago by the Dev-Miwa Multiworld Cooperative.”

“And they’re still mining?”

“No,” said the scientist.
 
“The vepucite was exhausted about fifty years ago. But some of the mineworkers decided to stay on Napiso.
 
Hence, Napiso Colony.”

The First leaned back in his chair.
 
Nutip Fe was a handsome man in his fourth decade, with shoulder-length, pale blue hair and a natural aura of leadership.
 
He stroked his chin, thoughtfully.
 
“How do you think they’ll react to their new neighbors?”

Jusip Val shrugged.
 
“Hard to say, sir.
 
The Devotees of Oba usually keep to themselves.
 
That may be why they chose to come to Napiso.
 
You can’t get much more isolated than this.”

“Not unless you go to Visopa Colony,” said the First.

“True.”

Fe shifted in his seat.
 
Before him, the command of the
Harmonious Maiden
stretched, the wallscreens inert, as the ship hurtled through shiftspace.
 
Usually, Fe found the drab, gray surfaces reassuring, but today they were a reminder of his vessel’s guests.
 

At the request of the Colonial Authority, the
Harmonious Maiden
had been assigned the duty of transporting a group of devotees to their new home on Napiso Colony.
 
Normally, Fe would have been perfectly happy to transport colonists, but the Devotees of Oba made him uneasy.
 
And he knew that he wasn’t the only one aboard the
Maiden
to feel that way.

Not that any of his crew would express that unease.
 
They were professionals, every one of them.
 
The thought of his crew sent a surge of warmth through Nutip Fe.
 
He glanced around the command, allowing himself a slight smile.

To his right sat Jusip Val, his First Scientist and Third Officer.
 
Val was stoop-shouldered and thin with long hair that had turned prematurely white.
 
Only his eyebrows, red as fire, suggested that the man was not as old as he appeared.

Zunova Neyopi sat at Fe’s left.
 
A veteran of the Dilatan Border Conflicts, she kept her yellow hair painfully short, with frequent trips to the surgeon-barber.
 
As Fe’s Second Officer and First Defender, they had knocked heads when the mission began.
 
She thought he was too reckless; he thought she was overly cautious.
 
Slowly, they had found enough common ground to grow a complicated and intimate relationship.

Beyond these two, seated at workstations extruded from the command’s walls were specialists and technicians, busy monitoring the ship’s systems.
 
Most had been with the
Maiden
since her departure from Juni, almost three years ago.
 
They, and their shipmates, had been handpicked by either Fe or his officers.

All, Fe thought bitterly, but one.

* * * * *

 
“One Sunset Tornado.”

John pushed the swirling orange and yellow concoction across the bar toward Tig Lemo.
 
The twenty-two year old scientific specialist picked up the drink with caution.
 
He looked across the bar at Epcott.
 
The human was leaning against the bar, grinning.
 
Taking a nervous breath, Tig raised the glass and took a tentative sip.
 
His black eyes widened in shock.

“It’s good!”

John’s dark eyebrows shot up in amusement.
 
“You don’t have to sound so shocked.”

Grinning, Tig took a deep drink.
 
“Have you forgotten how many of your experiments I’ve tried?
 
How many have made me sick?”

The human chuckled.
 
“No, I haven’t.
 
Have you forgotten how many times I’ve had to clean up after you?”

Tig felt his fingers throb with blood.
 
He curled them around the cool glass, raised it in salute.
 
“Well, here’s to a very tasty success.
 
Really, John, this is delicious!
 
What’s in it?”

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that.”

“I’d be worried if I were you, Tig.
 
John’s being evasive.”

Tig turned to grin at the woman who sat next to him.
 
Evodu Tof was more handsome than pretty.
 
She had long, dark blue hair framing a pale face with coarse skin.
 
Her pores were enormous.
 
The eyepaint around her eyes was green and yellow with just a dash of sparkle powder.

She grinned at John.
 
“Am I going to have to rush Tig to the infirmary again?”

“Not this time.”

“You should really try this, Evodu,” said Tig.
 
He pushed the drink toward her.
 
“It’s great!”

Warily, she eyed the glass.
 
“Really?”

Tig nodded.
 
“Can I have another, John?”

“Hold on,” said Evodu.
 
 
She held out her hand.
 
“Handscanner, please.”

Reaching beneath the bar, John produced the glove-like device. Evodu slid it on and stuck a finger into the glass.
 
Drawing her hand back, she eyed the analysis streaming across the back of the handscanner.
 
Her eyes widened.

“Sweet pantheon!
 
There’s blissfruit in this!” She gaped at John.
 
“Where did you get your hands on that?”

John glanced down at his fingernails.
 
“I know a guy.”

Evodu tapped the bar.
 
“Fine.
 
Give.”

Grinning, John turned and mixed another Sunset Tornado.
 
He slid the finished concoction to Evodu who took it, sipped carefully and shook her head.
 
“Lonelies, man.
 
You’ve actually done it.
 
You’ve actually come up with a new drink that’s actually decent.
 
Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” said John.
 
He picked up a sanitizer and began to run it over the bar’s pale orange surface.
 
“Think that’ll get me into Fe’s good graces?”

“Do you really care about that?” asked Evodu.

“No,” admitted John.
 
“To be honest, I don’t much care what the First thinks of me.”

Tig frowned.
 
“John, I really doubt if the First bears you any ill will.”

“And if he does, it’s not his fault,” said John.
 
“He’s just a xeno.
 
Right?”

Evodu frowned, glanced around.
 
The crew hall was largely empty, but shift change had just started and soon the place would be packed.
 
“I think,” she said, carefully, “that it would be a wise idea to change the topic.”

John nodded, and then grinned at her.
 
“You know, Evodu, I think you missed your calling.
 
Instead of medicine you should have gone into diplomacy.”

She rolled her eyes and took another swig of the Sunset Tornado.

“So, now that you’ve invented a good drink, John, what are you going to do next?” asked Tig.

He shrugged.
 
“I don’t know.
 
Finger foods?”

Evodu nearly choked on her drink.

* * * * *

 
Sixth Allocator Pim Nomev stepped into the workspace of his immediate superior, a PIN in one hand and a cup in the other.
 
“Do you have a minute, Tes?”

Tes Jebim sniffed the air. “Is that purple tea I smell?”

Pim grinned and handed the cup to the other man.
 
Tes Jebim was the oldest crewmember aboard the
Harmonious Maiden
, one of the oldest guardsmen that Pim had ever met.
 
The man must have been in his sixth or seventh decade.
 
He was short and stout, with dust-colored hair that contrasted startlingly with his dark skin.
 
The old man wore jeweled rings in his ears.
 
Discreet tattoos crawled up from his collar, hinting at a colorful, possibly criminal, past.
 
His eyepaint was monochromatic, a space-black bar covering his eyes.

“You only bring me purple tea if there’s a problem, Pim,” said the old man.
 
He waved at a chair.
 
“Sit.”

“It’s not so much a problem, Tes, as a potential problem.”

“Tell me.”

Pim hesitated, glancing around.
 
Tes shared his workspace with half a dozen other crewmembers.
 
Most seemed intent on their own work, but you could never be sure.
 
“Could we go private for this?”

Tes frowned, but touched his workstation’s controls, invoking privacy.
 
The transparent dividers separating his workspace from the others turned opaque.
 
The room became silent as an antisonic field activated.

“All right.
 
We’re private.
 
Now, what’s got you flustered, Pim?”

Pim touched his PIN, handed the device to Tes.
 
“I’ve been getting complaints from some of the floaters.”

“What sort of complaints?” Tes eyed the PIN’s display.
 
It showed the crew rotation schedule.

“Nothing formal.
 
Not yet. But. . . .”

“What sort of complaints, guardsman?” asked Tes, frowning now.

“Some of the crew want to know why John Epcott has been stationed in Crew Services so long.”

The old man’s dust-colored eyebrows shot up.
 
“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“Tell them it’s because the First wants him there,” said Tes.

Pim frowned.
 
“People know that, Tes. That’s the problem.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“There’s, well, been a lot of talk about the First’s attitude toward Epcott.
 
Some people think he’s being unfair.”

“Do they?”

“Yes.”

“They think our First is being unfair,” repeated Tes.
 
“What do they think about Epcott?”

Pim shrugged.
 
“At first, some of the floaters weren’t happy with him.
 
They thought he’d got the First to stick him in Crew Services deliberately, but it’s kind of common knowledge now that Epcott would like to rotate out.”

“Are you trying to tell me that people are complaining on Epcott’s behalf?
 
What about Epcott himself?
 
Has he complained?”