With Stars Underfoot (Adventures in the Liaden Universe®) (5 page)

      "Check your board!" Cheever directed, and Pat Rin executed the required glide and change, aware of the weight of his limbs. It was hot, and his head ached, and, really, he had every reason to be tire—
      The omnichora shouted, notes streaming like lift beacons, and there was Miri next to his mother, and Priscilla approaching—
      "Lay in coords!"
      There was no map this time. Pat Rin closed his eyes.
      Cheever chanted the coordinates—a short set of three. Forward, back, turn left—
      "Sign your co-pilot!"
      Pat Rin extended a hand—and his eyes snapped open in astonishment as it was caught in a warm grip.
      "Well done!" Uncle Daav whispered, under cover of the music, and—
      "Clear your board!"
      The two of them crossed, separated, and came back together.
      "Lock it down!"
      Natesa's fingers wove comfortably with his. Shan, on her other side, extended his hand and caught Daav's free hand.
      "Dim the lights," Cheever said softly, and the four of them walked sedately widdershins, three times, the 'chora slowing, slowing, almost down to a proper round...
      "Open hatch."
      Obediently, they dropped hands.
      "Go to town," Cheever all-but-whispered, and the four of them turned to face the rug and those watching, as the 'chora finished with a flurry and a flare—and the shouts and whistles began.

* * *

PAT RIN SHOOK HIS lace out and reached for his glass. With Natesa's connivance, he'd slipped through the crowd to the back room that had been set aside for the band's use. Finding a bottle of autumn wine before him, he poured and sipped, and sipped once again before making the attempt to make himself seemly.
      The dance—the dance had been an odd thing, to be sure; in memory not nearly so harrowing as in actuality. Had it gone on much longer, he had no doubt but that he would have joined Luken, Miri, and Priscilla at his mother's side.
      He paused, frowning, recalling the moment when he had met his mother's eyes...
      "Ah, here he is, keeping the wine to himself!" Clonak ter'Meulen's voice overfilled the little room. Pat Rin sighed, and turned to face not only the portly Scout, but Luken and Daav, and Shan, Priscilla, Natesa, Andy Mack, Nova, Cheever, Miri—and Val Con, green eyes sparkling, the renegade lock of hair sticking damply to his forehead.
      "Well met, cousin," he murmured, and Pat Rin held out his glass.
      "I thought the 'chora was overextended," he said. "Drink."
      "My thanks." Val Con took the glass and sipped; sighed. Pat Rin considered him, doing a different sort of calculation.
      "More clarity?" he asked, but it was Miri who answered.
      "No complaints, Boss. Sent you a clue, fair and square," she said.
      He eyed her. "Hardly in advance."
      "But in advance, nonetheless," Val Con said, with a note of finality in his quiet voice. "Come, let us not bicker. There is business to be done—and quickly, so that Clonak is not long kept from the wine."
       "That's a touching regard for my well-being," Clonak said, and suddenly pulled himself up straight, looking not so pudgy, nor foolish at all.
      "Pat Rin yos'Phelium Clan Korval," he intoned, the syllables of the High Tongue falling cool and sharp from his lips, "has stated in the hearing of pilots and of master pilots not once but several times that he holds a first class limited license under false pretenses. The pilot's solo rating flight was conducted in a Korval safe-ship, programmed to fly, should there be no pilot available. Pat Rin yos'Phelium has stated his belief that it was the ship which overcame the challenges of the pilot's solo, not the pilot." Clonak gave Pat Rin a level look.
      "These are serious concerns and the pilot erred not in laying them before master pilots. Therefore, and after consultation, it was agreed that a retesting should be done. The testing is now completed, and I call upon the master pilots present to render their opinions: Is Pat Rin yos'Phelium Clan Korval a pilot or does he hold a license wrongly? Speak, masters!"
      Daav stepped forward, black eyes serious.
      "Though he is perhaps not as conversant with the basic coord book as might be desirable, it is my estimation as a master pilot that Pat Rin yos'Phelium is worthy of the license he carries." He fell back a step, cocking an eyebrow at Andy Mack, lounging against the wall. The lanky pilot shook his head, white hair moving softly across his shoulders, and took a sip of his beer.
      "Been sayin' it, ain't I? Boy's a pilot. Tell by lookin' at him."
      Shan stepped forward. "It is my estimation as a master pilot," he said seriously, "that Pat Rin yos'Phelium is worthy of the license he carries." He fell back a step, and Priscilla came forward, then Nova, Cheever and at last Natesa, who made her declaration with the cool, emotionless intonation of a Judge, then smiled at him and stepped forward to take his hand.
      "You did well, Pat Rin," she murmured.
      "In fact," said Clonak, "he did. I say this as one who doubted the damn' dance would work out at all, but young Shadow carried the day. So." He looked sharply at Pat Rin. "In my estimation as a master pilot, having observed the whole of the testing, Pat Rin yos'Phelium is worthy of the license he carries and I'll thank you to stop doubting yourself, you young whippersnapper! Between you and your lady mother, you're a devil's brew, make no mistake!"
      Pat Rin blinked. "My mother?"
      "It happens," Priscilla said surprisingly, "that Lady Kareen is, after all, of the dramliz. She appears to have only one talent, which is rare, but not unknown."
      Pat Rin looked at her, foreknowing... "And that talent is?"
      Priscilla smiled at him. "She may impose her will—to a very limited extent—upon the unwary." Her smiled deepened. "And now that you are warned, you are armed."
      His mother a
dramliza
? It was only slightly mad, Pat Rin thought, considering the facts of Shan and Anthora in the present generation. But that one talent ...
      "I think you are saying that it was my mother's influence that kept me from qualifying as pilot?"
      "At first, boy dear," Luken said, gently. "By the time you had failed two or three times, you were quite able to fail all on your own." He smiled, sadly. "It was my sorrow, my boy, that I could never allow you to see anything other than your own unworthiness."
      Pat Rin blinked against tears; Natesa's finger's tightened around his. "You did so much else, Father..."
      A small pause, and then was Val Con abruptly before him, raising his hand so that Korval's ring gleamed.
      Pat Rin lifted an eyebrow. "Korval?"
      "You will," Korval stated, "arrange time to study with Clonak ter'Meulen. You will learn the core coordinates, and such protocols as Scout ter'Meulen finds worthy. You will come to your delm inside of one local year and submit to such verification as may be demanded."
      "Ah. And my streets? My duties as boss?"
      Val Con smiled, and put his hand on his lifemate's shoulder.
      "You'll think of something," he said.
      Pat Rin drew a breath—to say what he hardly knew, or perhaps he meant only to laugh. The opportunity for either, however, was snatched from him by Cheever McFarland.
      "Right then," the big man said. "Time to finish it up."

* * *

THE FIDDLER PROVIDED a sprightly, skipping little melody as they filed into the parlor and took up position on a clear space on the rug, Val Con leaving them at the last to tend his 'chora once more.
      Pat Rin stood in the first row of pilots, Natesa on his right, Luken on his left, Daav directly behind. The room was quiet, all eyes on them. Especially, Pat Rin saw, were Lady Kareen's eyes on them, from her position between Audrey and Penn Calhoon. His mother's face betrayed the faintest hint of boredom, as would perhaps be worthy of an adult who had been teased into attending a gathering of halflings.
      The fiddler finished her tune as Cheever McFarland and Miri Robertson stepped up before the rest them, mercifully blocking Pat Rin's view of his mother's face. From behind, the 'chora began to whisper a faint line of a tantalizingly familiar song. Pat Rin strained his ears, trying to identify the music—then forgot about it as Cheever began to speak.
      "I'm going to impose on your patience once more, here, if Ms. Audrey'll let me," he said.
      In the first row, Audrey laughed, and called out, "It don't strain my eyes any looking at you, Mr. McFarland! Speak on!"
      "Thank you, ma'am." The big man bent a little at the waist—
a bow
, Pat Rin thought,
Cheever McFarland style
— then raised his voice so that it carried to the far corners of the room—and likely the rooms abovestairs, as well.
      "Now, I know you all heard me say that pilots is competitive, and you might've thought that just meant that them who missed their steps had to drop outta the dance. But there was a little more to it than that. We was also looking to judge who among the pilots dancing had danced best, according to their level, their flight time, and their training. Miri here—you all know Miri's partnered with the Boss' brother, right? And when there's a question comes before either of them, they got this arrangement where both are understood to answer? Makes the family business run smoother. Anyhow, Miri here's gonna announce the winner."
      Whistles, hoots, and stamping filled the room. The drum tried to bring order, without success, until—
      "PIPE DOWN!" Miri ordered, loud enough to make Pat Rin's ears ring—and silence fell like a knife.
      "That's better," she said, in a more conversational tone. "I won't take long. Just want to say that it's the judgment of the master pilots we assembled here to watch that the winner of tonight's competition is—Boss Conrad!"
      More noise erupted, shaking the rugs hung against the walls, and he walked forward to stand between Miri and Cheever. Smiling hugely, Villy danced forward with a bouquet of dried leaves tied with bright ribbons and presented it with a bow.
      Pat Rin inclined his head, received the offering, and stood while the cheering went on, his eye inexorably drawn to the place where his mother stood, silent and bland-faced.
      She met his eyes, her own as hard as stones—and turned her face away.
      Pat Rin took a breath—sighed it out, and looked up with a smile as his lady came to his side.
      "Shall we go home, love?" she asked, slipping her arm through his.
      He looked into her face, and then around the room, heard the drummer begin his count—and looked back to her.
      "I believe," he said, smiling. "That I would like to dance with my lifemate. There are still some hours until dawn."

—End—

Sharon Lee and Steve Miller are co-authors of the best-selling Liaden Universe® series and have been writing together since the Kinzel stories for Fantasy Book in the early 80s. They began work on the first Liaden story in 1984 and have published 8 novels and several dozen short works in that series alone. They count Meisha Merlin, Ace Books, Buzzy Multimedia, and Embiid among their English language publishers and have several foreign language publishers as well.
      Sharon and Steve have appeared as guests and panelists at numerous science fiction conventions in the US and Canada, including stints as Guests of Honor at SiliCon in San Jose, MarsCon in Minneapolis, BaltiCon in Baltimore, CONduit, in Salt lake City and Trinoc*con in Durham, NC, and Special Guests at AlbaCon, ShevaCon, and elsewhere.
      Their short fiction, written both jointly and singly, has appeared in Absolute Magnitude, Catfantastic, Dreams of Decadence, Fantasy Book, Such a Pretty Face, 3SF, and several incarnations of Amazing, with more scheduled in 2005. Their work has enjoyed a number of award nominations, with
Scout's Progress
being selected for the Prism Award for Best Futuristic Romance of 2001 and
Local Custom
runner-up for the same award.
      
Low Port
, an anthology they edited for Meisha Merlin, appeared in August, 2003.
Balance of Trade
, their most recent novel, appeared in hardcover in February 2004; their next scheduled hardcover novel is
Crystal Soldier
, due in February 2005 and out as an eBook as we go to press.
      Sharon was born in Baltimore, Maryland in 1952. She graduated from high school in 1970, attended University of Maryland Baltimore County as a mild-mannered night student while simultaneously cutting a fearsome swath through the secretarial field by day. Sharon's interest in science fiction manifested early in life and she won the BaltiCon 10 short story contest in 1976. Since her first pro sale, in 1980, Sharon's professional output has included reviews, features, short stories; TV, radio and print ads, as well as her contribution to the Liaden Universe(r). Sharon also worked as a freelance journalist and a night-side editor for the Central Maine Morning Sentinel.
      In 1997, Sharon was hired to be the first full-time executive director of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA), a position she held for three years. She also served terms as vice president and president of SFWA.
      Steve was born in Baltimore, Maryland in 1950, grandson of poet and radio personality Dorothea Neale. He graduated from high school in 1968 after learning how to make chapbooks as editor of the school's literary magazine.
      Steve attended University of Maryland Baltimore County in the late 60s and 70s, where he was managing editor of the campus newspaper, and started the school's science fiction club. He was Founding Curator of the Albin O. Kuhn Library's science fiction research collection.
      Steve is an independent publisher with an extensive background in SF fandom. He was Vice Chair of the Baltimore in 80 WorldCon bid and is a 1973 graduate of Clarion West writing workshop in Seattle. His first professional fiction appeared in the 70s in Amazing. Steve has accumulated credits in well over 100 newspapers, magazines and journals. In addition to reviews and poetry, Steve's professional output includes short stories, TV and radio commercials, greeting cards, as well as his contribution to the Liaden Universe®.