Seeds of Earth (17 page)

'Our sorrow?' Great-Aunt Mei had retorted. 'How do our trials compare with the bitter, wretched misery of the thousands who were left behind, and that of their children and their children's children? Deng Guo was a fool to lead us off into the fog-between-stars - if my father's father had been elected
duizbang
of the Retributor the sept would have sought out allies, not ended up here, indentured to cruel aliens...'

Which was what such arguments about the past usually came down to - the flight from Pyre and how Great-Aunt Mei's grandfather would have made a better
duizbang,
or captain. Kao Chih suspected that he would have been no better, or possibly worse if Mei was any guide to her forebear's temperament. In any case, the 1,500-strong Human Sept's contract of indenture still had thirty-two years to run, after which they would be permitted to contact Earth and appeal for assistance for both themselves and the colonists on Pyre, if any remained alive by then. One hundred and ten years of servitude and silence, that was the price the Roug had asked in exchange for sanctuary from Suneye, the Hegemony-based corporate monoclan which had seized Pyre for its resources.

Outside the pilot cabin, great cyclonic systems the colour of tilled earth moved slowly across the face of V'Harant. Kao Chih could see how an observer might consider it to be a place of punishment, yet in truth that was where the great floating cities of the Roug lay, shrouded by planetary storms in a system veiled by vast interstellar streams and clouds of dust and debris, the fog-between-stars which the Roug called Ydred. He smiled sardonically - anyone would think that they had something to hide.

The Roug name for their main orbital was Agmedra'a but the humans called it the Mountain. It had a wide, roughly circular base from which clusters of refineries, silos, labs, yardfacs and residential structures rose, closepacked and tapering towards the apex. A shining, glittering spire in the full light of the sun, Busrul, or a conical mass of lights, beacons, and decorative holos when in the planet's shadow, as it was now. The glowing motes of hopcraft and other maintenance drones darted among the towers while the great, slow silhouettes of freighters came and went.

But the upper reaches of the Mountain were closed to all members of Human Sept, who were restricted to the sublevels and the underdocks where they seldom encountered any crewmembers from visiting ships. Kao Chih guided the huge mass of the
Biaolong
into the embrace of a pair of mooring booms, which latched on, drawing it and its underslung cargo into the gloom of a large docking bay. Already unstrapped from the couch, Chih grabbed his ageing black jacket, told Jiang he would have the
ch'a
hot and ready for him in the canteen, then headed out and along to the personnel airlock.

The metal decking quivered slightly underfoot. Muffled thuds signalled the decoupling of the six huge ore containers that hung beneath the gravity-tug. As he approached the big airlock he heard clanks and the rough hum of motors, a moment's wait and the hatch opened with a brief pressure sigh accompanied by the smell of hot oil. It was normally a short walk along the dockside concourse to the tug-crew operations hall but as soon as he stepped out of the sinuous connecting tube a familiar voice called out his name in Mandarin.

'Pilot Kao Chih!'

Turning, he was surprised to see the tall, spindly form of a Roug approaching. Members of other indenture septs - furred Gomedra, six-limbed Bargalil and birdlike Kiskashin - hastened about their own tasks, careful to stay out of the Roug's path. Like all its kind, it was swathed from head to foot in tight windings of what looked like thin leather that gleamed with a dull coppery sheen. The legs were thin, the feet flat and toeless, and the long arms had two elbows and nine-fingered hands, but it was the silvery badges on the conoid head that confirmed its identity.

'Noble Tumakri,' Kao Chih said. 'Unusual to see you out here.' Tumakri was assistant overseer of tug-crew assignments, and thus seldom seen outside the operations hall.

'Not usual, Pilot Kao Chih, but necessary!' The Roug's voice had a whispery, papery quality and came from the wrappings just below the almond-shaped meshes that protected its eyes. 'Special assessors have arrived from Chissu'ol, the reigning city on V'Harant, bearing edicts from the High Index - a Conclave of Purpose is to be held aboard your sept's chief vessel, and you are to be present.'

The sounds of the busy dockside washed around them as Kao Chih stood in astonishment for a moment. 'Me, Noble One? They wish me back on the Retributor? Must I depart soon?'

'Immediately, Pilot. A hopcraft is waiting in a nearby rectifier dock and I am to accompany you and deliver you safely to the conclave. Another pilot will take your place aboard the
Biaolong
but you will still be credited for a full shift.' The Roug made an odd shrugging gesture. 'This, I confess, is unheard of, unprecedented, yet we must comply. Please follow me, pilot.'

So I get a paid half-day off and a trip to the Retributor}
he thought, grinning as he hurried after the Roug.
Why not}

The hopcraft was small and cramped and had the unclean fur smell of the Gomedran techs who usually flew it and others like it. The rectifier dock's mooring booms flung the little maintenance boat out of the underhull where Kao Chih's companion ignited the reaction motors and set course. The Retributor's orbit kept it in the vicinity of the orbital Agmedra'a and it took less than half an hour for a bright pinpoint to grow into the grey, irregular, pockmarked shape that he knew so well.

The Retributor had originally been one of a family of asteroids that orbited Pyre. After landfall, the colonyship
Tenebrosa
was cannibalised into a number of small vessels and soon after that one of the asteroids was chosen as an orbital platform for planetary survey and as a base for mining operations. Decades later, after the first probing attack by the Suneye mercantilists, the star drive from the hulk of the
Tenebrosa
was hauled up into orbit and mounted on the adapted asteroid, then simply called the Rockhab. In the end, however, the mercantilists had returned with a force of mercenaries so overwhelming that the Rockhab's captain, Deng Guo's, only choice was surrender or flight.

And here we are,
he thought as the ugly, retrofitted mass of the Retributor drifted closer.
Dispossessed twice over, trapped by the Roug contract, confined to certain areas of Agmedra'a and the core mines, but at least we're still alive.

The Retributor's exterior was littered with protruding structures, coolant pipes and vanes, vents, bot hutches, antennae clusters, hatches, loading bays and hardpoint where defensive weapons had apparently once been mounted. Kao Chih knew that encrusted carapace, knew the inner geography that lay beneath those untidy features. Then he noticed that Tumakri was staring fixedly out at the Rockhab.

'Tell me, Pilot Kao Chih - is your sept's homevessel safe?'

Chih gave a small smile. 'Well, I have to admit, Noble One, that seal repairs are permanently ongoing, the airscrubbers always need purging, and the grav-decking can be a little uneven in places, yet 1,500 of my people are happy to make their home there. They work hard at keeping it safe.'

'A candid reply, Pilot. I am reassured by your words.'

Kao Chih nodded and went back to studying the Retributor, wondering if the grapple squads had fixed the ruptured fuel lines yet.

They docked at the new loading bay, so called because it had been added soon after the Indenture, as opposed to the old loading bay, which had been part of the original facility. Stepping down from the hopcraft's hatch, they were confronted with another two Roug, both adorned with silvery hooked sigils attached to their necks. To Kao Chih's surprise, his companion hastily bowed to each in turn, which Chih was quick to emulate. There followed a brief exchange in the rapid, polysyllabic Roug tongue, which was never taught to other races, after which one of the senior Roug addressed Chih.

'Pilot Kao Chih - we are Assessors of the High Index and are commanded to escort you and Overseer Tumakri to the decision chambers of your elders, where certain materials will be examined.'

Kao Chih swallowed nervously as he went with them to the bay's main arched entryway. This all seemed much more serious than he had first thought. Had he unknowingly infringed the terms of the Indenture, or perhaps been careless when casting off from the core mines down on V'Harant? Had he left a trail of wreckage behind him, and were they about to show a recording of it to the
Duizhang,
K'ang Lo, and the other elders?

No way to know, he thought, grasping at a straw of hope. Too soon to be sure.

From the high plascrete curves of the loading bay and its busy unshipping carrels, they passed into a semicircular lobby. Rounded openings led off, up, down and sideways, and without hesitation the leading Roug assessor headed for one of the downward exits.

The Retributor was honeycombed with tunnels and chambers of every size which provided its occupants with necessities and amenities. As Kao Chih followed the Roug into the dim, biobulb-lit passageway known as Shang Street, it was the cooking smells that leaped upon his senses first, as always. No matter the shift, there was usually someone somewhere steaming vegetables, baking bread or whipping up a spiced stirfry. It was the essence of home, of normality, of an unexciting ordinariness which right then he longed for. The presence of the Roug, however, was anything but ordinary. Eyes, some amazed, some fearful, some fascinated to see Kao Chih in the company of aliens, followed their progress, heads craned out of doors and windows for a look and mouths whispered once they were past. This was an event, a source of gossip that would, he knew, be refined and refashioned endlessly over the next few days. Who could tell what they might be saying about him in a week!

For a stretch Shang Street's right-hand wall looked out through a line of louvred windows and down into Many-Voices Hall, the Rockhab's main marketplace and gathering hub. As he walked Chih caught sight of some familiar places, the Steel Dragon teahouse, Cho Lai's repair shop, and the small balcony where Old Mother Yao gave I-Ching readings. Part of him wished he was down there, but in truth he was glad that none of his friends could witness his shame.

Before long they reached the administration and command levels, quiet, carpeted corridors where amber-suited assistants hurried serenely on errands, and where the walls and ceilings emitted a pearly, ambient light. After turning a couple of corners they came face to face with two guards standing either side of a wooden door. On it were the five symbols of the Pyre colony - a tree, a bear, an open scroll, two crossed spears, and at the centre the t'ai chi, each one beautifully carved and inlaid with silver from the regalia of the original colonyship, the
Tenebrosa.
That was because it led to the
Duizhang,
K'ang Lo's, strategy room.

This is it,
he thought as the guard stood aside and the Roug assessors led them in.

It was worse than he had feared. The eyes of more than three dozen formally attired people looked round at the newcomers and Kao Chih realised that everyone of consequence was present, clan elders, duty directors, command staff, and his father, Kao Hsien. In the background, rows of empty chairs waited.

I'm doomed,
he thought, resigned to fate - until he saw a certain look in his father's eyes, the kind he wore when he knew that a game of wei-chi was his ...

'Ah, Pilot Kao - at last you are here.'

K'ang Lo was a tall, barrel-chested man on whom the blue-and-black, long-sleeved
duizbang's
coat looked natural. At once Kao Chih came to attention and gave a sharp bow of the head.

'Sir, I...'

'Not now, Pilot. Explanations will come later, once the mystery is revealed, neh?'

He turned to the senior Roug and gave a slight but gracious bow, then made a small gesture to the attendants. The light began to dim gradually and everyone went to find a seat as one of the Roug set up a slender tripod with a glittering device at its apex. Kao Chih ind Tumakri found theirs off to the side. Meanwhile, the other Roug addressed the seated elders in perfectly inflected Mandarin.

'Most diligent and industrious members of Human Sept - what you are about to see was very recently disseminated across all first- and second-tier news feeds in the greater general region ...'

The first Roug straightened, stepped back from the tripod, and at once a holo appeared and began to play. A series of human commentators, Caucasian, Asiatic and African, was shown, interspersed with views of what looked like villages and towns on a lush, fertile world far from Earth. The commentary and dialogue was mostly in Anglic and Russian but someone - Chih assumed it was the Roug - had added Mandarin subtitles. As the story emerged and became clearer, excited whispers rippled around the room, because those towns and villages belonged to a Human settlement founded by one of the original colonyships which had fled Earth at the height of the Swarm War, taking random hyperspace jumps into the depths of space.

The
Tenebrosa,
the
Forrestal
and the
Hyperion.
It was an old story for Kao Chih's generation, resonant with the pain and grief of defeat and exile. But for the
Hyperion's
crew, the world which they had made their home - and named Darien - just happened to lie well within a deepzone which kept it hidden from other civilisations for a century and a half. And now Earth was reaching out to them with the promise of friendship and aid, as well as the prospect of opening up relations with nearby cultures and races. Then the commentators mentioned that Darien's neighbours were the Brolturan Compact, an offshoot of the Sendruka Hegemony, and the mood in the room changed. All knew from decades of underdock buzz and unofficial summaries, as well as the sufferings of relatives still captive on Pyre, what Sendruka involvement really meant.