Sarah Zettel - Reclamation

It wouldn’t have been enough, anyway. Nothing was ever enough to kill the last trace of agoraphobia that nibbled at the edges of his mind. Eric had been secretly grateful that his assignments from the Vitae kept him mostly on space stations. He frowned at the port and his thoughts at the same time as he remembered tearing through Haron Station with Aria on his heels.

I wonder what she’s looking at right now. Eric’s gaze traced the orderly forms of the distant cliffs. / hope she’s got the sense to listen to Perivar and do what she’s told. I hope… His thoughts pulled themselves up abruptly as he realized what he really hoped was that he’d get the chance to find out what had happened to her.

If I live so long… Eric cast another glance back toward his bridge. Schippend was muttering something into his torque.

I hope whoever Dorias drafted to get me into the city can wait awhile, he added sullenly. He could appreciate, in theory, the Unifier philosophy that living human beings ought to deal with living human beings. He could also understand their desire to keep both their people and their machines free of ailments caused by contact with outside sources. He ruefully rubbed the spot where he’d been injected with an armful of antivirals and antibiotics. In practice, however, their philosophy combined with their caution made for a customs process that could stretch on for hours.

One of the smaller, open port cars whirred up to the U-Kenai’s bay. A squared-off woman from a cold climate climbed out of the driver’s seat.

“Sar Eric Born?” She squinted in the bright morning sun.

“I am.” He straightened himself up.

“You’ll be accompanying me once your processing is completed.”

Eric managed to keep his voice smooth and patient despite the abrupt goading her tone gave his strained patience. “Thank you, but a friend of mine has…”

Her broad mouth smiled in jerky stages. “Sorry. Used to people knowing me on sight, aren’t I? I’m Sealuchie Ross and I am the transportation your friend arranged.” She must have read the look on his face as skepticism because she added, “We could hunt Dorias up and confirm it, if you want to.”

Eric studied Ross for a moment. That was the name he had from Dorias. It also stirred a separate, vague memory in the back of his mind that he couldn’t make show itself clearly. She was not a young woman. The blond color of her hair was faded and streaked with grey. Time had pressed her rose-and-white skin close to her bones and the wrinkles around her eyes proclaimed she had a serious outlook on life. She certainly did not have much use for ceremony. Or fashion. Eric looked over her loose green shirt and trousers and flat-soled boots. Her torque had several thread-fine cables that adhered to her flesh, one led to her translator disk, one to a pad pressed against her temple, and two others to pads pressed against her wrists, where her pulse could be measured.

Security wired. Eric dug harder in his memory. Whoever she was, she was important.

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” he lied, and looked over his shoulder toward the U-Kenai’s bridge again. “I’m just waiting on my IDs and communications clearance.”

“Are you?” Without asking permission, Ross climbed past Eric through the airlock. Eric followed her, at a loss for the words to ask this woman who she thought she was.

“Who’s processing this arrival?” she asked as she reached the bridge.

Schippend turned laboriously around with his mouth open. When he saw who came through the doorway, his mouth stayed open and he jumped out of his chair, holding himself rigidly at attention.

“Madame Chairman. This is ah…”

“Unexpected would be a good word, perhaps?” she replied without smiling. “This arrival is now to be given priority. Do you require my authorization?”

“I may, ah, Madame Chairman,” stammered Schippend. “There are delays in the…um…background check…” His eyes shifted restlessly to Eric.

She nodded. “You will tell me personally if there’s anything requiring special handling. I shall leave a line open from this ship.” She tapped at her torque and her mouth moved as she added a subvocal command. She turned to Eric with a hint of real apology in her manner. “I am sorry about this, Sar Born.”

“Thank you.” Eric found himself struggling through a mental readjustment. This, at least, explained why her name had struck a chord in him. Madame or Master Chairman was the title used for the appointed head of the Unifiers.

Sealuchie Ross, Madame Chairman Sealuchie Ross, he corrected himself, ran the planet he was standing on.

What this did not explain was why the person who ran the world was running errands for Dorias.

“Dorias forgot to mention your position when he said who was coming to meet me,” Eric said over the sound of Schippend demanding to know where arrival Eric Born’s IDs were, damn it!

Ross’s mouth twitched. “Very like Dorias, don’t you think? Not one to care much for a person’s rank.” Eric couldn’t tell whether this amused or annoyed her.

“No, he’s not,” Eric agreed, trying to haul together an appropriate set of manners. “I should perhaps apologize for taking up so…”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “One of the prerogatives of the job. I get to decide what I spend my time on, don’t I? Now, if you’re ready, we can go talk somewhere more comfortable.” She started toward the airlock.

Eric hesitated. Beside him, Schippend was sweating and swearing quietly into his torque. Cam stood motionless waiting for orders, and Madame Chairman waited for Eric to make some move.

The idea of leaving a stranger aboard the U-Kenai made Eric uneasy. He wanted to talk to Dorias and get his side of this story, but until he had his May 16 IDs, there was no easy or legal way for him to get into the system. He certainly wasn’t going to use his power gift with so many unknown factors surrounding him.

“I’ll be joining you in a moment, Madame Chairman.” Eric gestured her politely toward the airlock and walked back to the common room. He picked up the satchel he had packed with a change of clothes and a few pieces of communications hardware in case his visit became…complicated. Then he hit the combination of keys on the comm board that opened a line straight into Cam’s private ears.

“Cam,” he whispered, “once the inspection’s complete, seal the ship. Keep everything up and running.”

“Yes, Sar Born,” Cam acknowledged.

Eric nodded to himself. Some things, at least, were predictable. He shouldered the satchel strap and made his way back outside.

Madame Chairman Ross waited in the port car. Eric climbed into the empty seat beside her. “Whenever you’re ready, Madame Chairman.”

“Ross,” she corrected him. “The title’s for Unifiers and formal occasions, isn’t it?”

“As you prefer.” Eric stowed his pack under the seat. Ross released the brake and steered the little car into the main traffic lane that crossed the port. Eric kept his eyes on her to avoid having to acknowledge the stretch of empty space around the port or the open sky overhead.

Ross, it turned out, was not one to make small talk. She drove with her gaze on the shifting traffic, projecting an air of intense concentration. It was not from lack of skill, Eric decided. She handled the car well, sliding smoothly in and out of the stew of maintenance, transport, and private vehicles that flowed through the port. She was just extremely single-minded.

They left the port car at the free-standing arch that was the gateway to the main roads and transferred themselves to one of the automatic cars that waited there for hire. While Eric took his seat, Ross punched in her ID code and the address of their destination on the keypad and the car rolled into traffic.