The Night's Dawn Trilogy (380 page)

Sarha, Ashly, Dahybi, and Beaulieu had claimed their usual booth, as requested by Joshua who’d told them he wanted a meeting.
They didn’t have any trouble, at quarter to nine in the morning there were only a dozen other people in the place. Dahybi
sniffed at his coffee after the waitress had departed. Even their skirts were longer at this time of day. “It’s not natural,
drinking coffee in here.”

“This time isn’t natural,” Ashly complained. He poured some milk into his cup, and added the tea. Sarha
tsked
at him; she always mixed it the other way round.

“Are we flying?” Dahybi asked.

“Looks like it,” Beaulieu said. “The captain authorized the service engineering crew to remove the hull plates over
Lady Mac
’s damaged node. The only reason to do that is to replace it.”

“Not cheap,” Ashly muttered. He stirred his tea thoughtfully.

Joshua pulled the spare seat out and sat down. “Who’s not cheap?” he asked briskly.

“Replacement nodes,” Sarha said.

“Oh, them.” Joshua stuck up a finger, and a waitress popped up at his side. “Tea, croissants, and orange juice,” he ordered.
She gave him a friendly smile, and hurried off. Dahybi frowned. Her skirt was short.

“I’m flying
Lady Mac
tomorrow,” Joshua told them. “Just as soon as the
Oenone
returns from the O’Neill Halo with my new nodes.”

“Does the First Admiral know?” Sarha inquired lightly.

“No, but Consensus does. This is not a cargo flight, we’ll be leaving with Admiral Saldana’s squadron.”

“We?”

“Yes. That’s why you’re here. I’m not going to press gang you this time. You get consulted. I can promise a long and very
interesting trip. Which means I need a good crew.”

“I’m in, Captain,” Beaulieu said quickly.

Dahybi sipped some coffee and grinned. “Yes.”

Joshua looked at Sarha and Ashly. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“To the Tyrathca Sleeping God, so we can ask it how to solve the possession crisis. Ione and the Consensus believe it’s on
the other side of the Orion nebula.”

Sarha deliberately looked away, studying Ashly’s face. The pilot was lost in stupefaction. Joshua’s simple words were the
perfect bewitchment for a man who’d given up normal life to witness as much of eternity as he could. And Joshua knew that,
Sarha thought. “Monkey and a banana,”

she muttered. “All right, Joshua, of course we’re with you.” Ashly nodded dumbly.

“Thanks,” Joshua told them all. “I appreciate it.”

“Who’s handling fusion?” Dahybi asked.

“Ah,” Joshua produced an uncomfortable expression. “The not-so-good news is that our friend Dr Alkad Mzu is coming with us.”
They started to protest. “Among others,” he said loudly. “We’re carrying quite a few specialists with us this trip. She’s
the official exotic physics expert.”

“Exotic physics?” Sarha sounded amused.

“Nobody knows what this God thing actually is, so we’re covering all the disciplines. It won’t be like the Alchemist mission.
We’re not on our own this time.”

“Okay, but who do you want as fusion officer?” Dahybi repeated.

“Well… Mzu’s specialist field at the Laymil project was fusion systems. I could ask her. I didn’t know how you’d all feel
about that.”

“Badly,” Beaulieu said. Joshua blinked. He’d never heard the cosmonik express a definite opinion before, not about people.

“Joshua,” Sarha said firmly. “Just go and ask Liol, all right? If he says no, fine, we’ll get someone else. If he says yes,
it’ll be with the understanding that you’re the captain. And you know he’s up to the job. He deserves the chance, and I don’t
just mean to crew.”

Joshua looked round the other three, receiving their encouragement. “Suppose there’s no harm in asking,” he admitted.

______

The crews were starting to refer to themselves as the Deathkiss squadron. On several occasions the phrase had almost slipped
from Rear-Admiral Meredith Saldana’s own mouth as well. Discipline had kept it from being spoken, rather than neural nanonic
prohibitions, but he sympathised with his personnel.

The sol-system news companies were hailing Tranquillity’s appearance in Jupiter orbit as a huge victory over the possessed,
and Capone in particular. Meredith didn’t see it quite that way. It was the second time the squadron had gone up against the
possessed, and the second time they’d been forced to retreat. This time they owed their lives entirely to luck… and his own
rebel ancestor’s foresight. He wasn’t entirely sure if the universe was being ironic or contemptuous towards him. The only
certainty in his life these days was the squadron’s morale, which was close to nonexistent. His day cabin’s processor datavised
an admission request, which he granted. Commander Kroeber and Lieutenant Rhoecus air swam through the open hatch. They secured
their feet on a stikpad and saluted.

“At ease,” Meredith told them. “What have you got for me?”

“Our assignment orders, sir,” Rhoecus said. “They’re from the Jovian Consensus.”

Meredith gave Commander Kroeber a brief glance. They’d been waiting for new orders from the 2nd Fleet headquarters in the
O’Neill Halo. “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“Sir, it’s a secure operation. CNIS has located an antimatter production station, they asked Jupiter to eliminate it.”

“Could have been worse,” Meredith said. For all it was rare, an assault on an antimatter station was a standard procedure.
A straightforward mission like this was just what the crews needed to restore confidence in themselves. Then he noticed the
reservation in Rhoecus’s expression. “Continue.”

“A supplementary order has been added by the Jovian Security sub-Consensus. The station is to be captured intact.”

Meredith hardened his expression, knowing Consensus would be observing his disapproval through Rhoecus’s eyes. “I really do
hope that you’re not going to suggest we start arming ourselves with that
abomination
.”

If anything, Rhoecus seemed rather relieved. “No, sir, absolutely not.”

“Then what are we capturing it for?”

“Sir, it’s to be used for fuelling the
Lady Macbeth
’s antimatter drive unit. Consensus is sending a pair of ships beyond the Orion nebula.”

The statement was so extraordinary Meredith initially didn’t know what to make of it. Though that ship’s name… Oh yes, of
course, Lagrange Calvert; and there was also the matter of a ludicrously ballsy manoeuvre through Lalonde’s upper atmosphere.
“Why?” he asked mildly.

“It’s a contact mission with the non-Confederation Tyrathca. We believe they may have information relevant to possession.”

Meredith knew he was being judged by Consensus. An Adamist—a Saldana—being asked by Edenists to break the very law the Confederation
was formed to enforce. At the least I should query 2nd Fleet headquarters. But in the end it comes down to trust. Consensus
would never initiate such a mission without a good reason. “We live in interesting times, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir; unfortunately, we do.”

“Then let’s hope we outlive them. Very well. Commander Kroeber, squadron to stand by for assault duties.”

“Consensus has designated fifteen voidhawks to join us, sir,” Rhoecus said. “Weapons loading for the frigates has been given
full priority.”

“When do we leave?”

“The
Lady Macbeth
is undergoing some essential maintenance. She should be ready to join the squadron in another twelve hours.”

“I hope this Lagrange Calvert character can stay in formation,” Meredith said.

“Consensus has every confidence in Captain Calvert, sir.”

______

The two of them sat at a table by the window in Harkey’s Bar. Glittering stars chased a shallow arc behind them as their drinks
were delivered. Two slender crystal flutes of Norfolk Tears. The waitress thought that wonderfully romantic. They were both
captains, he in crumpled overalls but still with the silver star on his shoulder, she in an immaculate Edenist blue satin
ship-tunic. A handsome couple.

Syrinx picked her glass up and smiled. “We really shouldn’t be drinking. We’re flying in seven hours.”

“Absolutely,” Joshua agreed. He touched his glass to hers. “Cheers.” They both sipped, relishing the drink’s delectable impact.

“Norfolk was such a lovely world,” Syrinx said. “I was planning on going back next midsummer.”

“Me too. I’d got this amazing deal lined up. And… there was a girl.”

She took another sip. “Now there’s a surprise.”

“You’ve changed. Not so uptight.”

“And you’re not so irresponsible.”

“Here’s to the sustainable middle ground.” They touched glasses again.

“How’s the refit coming on?” Syrinx asked.

“On schedule so far. We’ve got the new reaction mass tanks installed in
Lady Mac
’s cargo holds. I left the engineering team plumbing them in. Dahybi is running integration protocols through the new node;
there’s some kind of software disparity with the rest of them. But then there always is a problem with new units, the manufacturers
can never resist trying to improve something that works perfectly well already. He’ll have it debugged ready for departure
time.”

“Sounds like you have a good crew.”

“The best. How’s
Oenone
?”

“Fine. The supplement fusion generators are standard items. We already had the attachment points for them in the cargo cradles.”

“Looks like we’re running out of excuses, then.”

“Yeah. But I bet the view from that side of the nebula is quite something.”

“It will be.” He hesitated for a moment. “Are you all right?”

Syrinx studied him over the top of the flute; her ability to read Adamist emotions was quite adroit these days, so she considered.
His genuine concern gladdened her. “I am now. Bit of a basket case for a while, after Pernik, but the doctors and my friends
helped put me back together again.”

“Good friends.”

“The best.”

“So why this flight?”

“Mainly
Oenone
and I are flying because we think this is how we can contribute best. If that sounds superior, I apologise, but it’s what
I feel.”

“It’s the
only
reason I’m here. You know, you and I are pretty unique. There’s not many of us who’ve come face to face with the possessed
and survived. That does tend to focus the mind somewhat.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I’ve never been so scared before. Death is always so difficult for us. Most people just ignore it. Then when you start to
see your last days drifting away you content yourself that you’ve had a good life, that it hasn’t been for nothing. And, hey,
there might be an afterlife after all, which is good because deep down you’ve convinced yourself you did your best, so the
plus column is always going to be in the black when it comes to Judgement day. Only there isn’t a Judgement day, the universe
doesn’t care.”

“Laton worked it out; that’s what gets me. I’ve retrieved that last message of his time and again, and he really believed
Edenists won’t be trapped in the beyond. Not even one in a billion of us, he said. Why, Joshua? We’re not that different,
not really.”

“What does Consensus think?”

“There’s no opinion yet. We’re trying to ascertain the general nature of the possessed, and compare it to our own psychological
profile. Laton said that would provide us with an insight. The Mortonridge Liberation ought to generate a great deal of raw
data.”

“I’m not sure how helpful that’ll be. Every era has a different outlook. What’s thoroughly normal behaviour for a Seventeenth
Century potter is going to be utterly different from you. I always think Ashly’s ridiculously old fashioned on some things;
he’s horrified by the way kids today can access stim programs.”

“So am I.”

“But you can’t restrict access, not in a universal data culture like ours. You have to educate society about what’s acceptable
and what isn’t. A little adolescent experimentation isn’t harmful, in moderation. We have to concentrate on pushing the moderation
aspect, help people come to terms with what’s out there. The alternative is censorship, which the communication nets will
defeat every time.”

“That’s defeatism. I’m not saying people shouldn’t be educated about the problems of stim programs; but if you made the effort,
Adamist culture could abolish them.”

“Knowledge can’t be destroyed, it has to be absorbed and accommodated.” He glanced dolefully out at Jupiter. “As I tried to
argue with the First Admiral. He wasn’t terribly impressed, either.”

“I’m not surprised. The fact we’re going to use antimatter on this flight is restricted information. Rightly so.”

“That’s different—” Joshua began, then grunted. “Looks like I’m not going to make it past the beyond. Don’t think like an
Edenist.”

“No, that’s not right. This is just a difference in beliefs. We both agree stim addiction is a dreadful blight, we just differ
on how to treat it. We still think the same way. I don’t understand this! Damnit!”

“Let’s hope the Sleeping God can show us the difference.” He gave her a tentative look. “Can I ask a personal question?”

She rubbed the tip of her index finger round the rim of the flute, then sucked on it. “Joshua Calvert, I have a devoted lover,
thank you.”

“Er, actually, I was wondering if you had any children.”

“Oh,” she said, and promptly blushed. “No, I don’t. Not yet anyway. My sister Pomona has three; it makes me wonder what I’ve
been doing with my time.”

“When you do have children, how do you raise them? Voidhawk captains, I mean. You don’t have them on board, do you?”

“No, we don’t. Shipboard life is for adults, even aboard a voidhawk.”

“So how do they grow up?”

“What do you mean?” It was a strange question, especially from him. But she could see it was important.

“They haven’t got you there as a mother.”

“Oh, I see. It doesn’t matter, for them anyway. Voidhawk captains tend to have fairly large extended families. I must take
you to see my mother some time, then you’ll see firsthand. Any children I have while I’m still flying with
Oenone
will be taken care of by my army of relatives, and the habitat as well. I’m not propagandising, but Edenism is one giant
family. There’s no such thing as an orphan among us. Of course, it’s hard on us captains, having to kiss goodbye to our babies
for months at a time. But that’s been the fate of sailors for millennia now. And of course, we do get to make up for it at
the end. When
Oenone
’s eggs are birthed, I wind up at ninety years old in a house with a dozen screaming infants. Imagine that.”