Cecelia Holland - Floating Worlds

“Well, well,” she said. She sipped the icy, minty liquor.

Tanuojin was coming toward her, and Ketac backed off, giving way to him. The tall man said, bad-tempered, “Isn’t there anything to drink in here except swill?” He put his back against the ocean, his hands behind him. Ketac went quickly away down the wall.

“Hello, Prima,” Paula said to Tanuojin.

“Hello, Paula.”

The men around the room were standing stiffly at respect. Saba came in. Behind him was Alvers Newrose, almost unnoticed in the dark. Ketac went to attend his father. The Martian stayed by the door, his head moving from side to side. Saba circled around the middle of the room.

“Listen to me. I have some things to get said. The fleet has voted thirty-six promotions, which I will have posted next watch.” He was in a very good temper. Paula had told Newrose what to say to him, and apparently he had obeyed her. She watched Newrose peer blindly around the room, looking for her. Saba recited names and ranks in an ascending order. David was not one of them. Of course he was too young even to be a subtenant.

Saba said, “The last three are the best. Ketac, in Ybix , goes to a master commander and third watch officer of the ship. Leno, in Ebelos , to a general commander.” He turned, one hand out, and Ketac brought him a strip of black cloth. “Tanuojin.”

Beside her, the tall man shifted his feet. Slowly he went across the room to Saba. The Prima hung the flag across his lyo’s chest. “The fleet has only voted two flags since I’ve been Prima, and both of them to you.” He started to shake the other man’s hand but instead they put their arms around each other, hugged each other chest to chest. The other men beat their hands together in applause.

Newrose was watching, so his eyes had sharpened in the dusk. Tanuojin came back to the wall next to Paula. Around the room, the aides of the other ranking officers brought them drink and chairs and took their private messages from man to man.

Leno said, “Prima, what word from Vribulo?”

“None,” Saba said.

“Nothing at all?”

“Who’s dominant in the Chamber?” Saba took a big glass from Ketac. “Bokojin and Machou. The vice commander and the commander of the Uranian Patrol. The only cheers we’d hear from them is if we crashed the whole fleet on an Asteroid.”

Paula looked up at Tanuojin on her left. The black sash hung across his chest. His hands were jammed under his belt. She took hold of his wrist. His skin was cold; he did not push her off.

Near the door, Ymma said, “It looks as if the war isn’t quite over after all.”

“Maybe,” Saba said. He held the glass out to David, who held it for him, and gestured to Ketac. “But that’s between me and Bokojin.”

“And the rest of us,” Leno said. The other men murmured loudly in agreement.

“I think I can take Bokojin,” Saba said. He pointed toward Newrose, next to the door. In the Common Speech, he said, “This man is the spokesman for the Council of the Middle Planets. The Mendoz’ has arranged a peace with him. I told him we only want the honor of the Empire, not revenge. As an earnest of that I’m giving him the Martian general we took prisoner.”

Leno said, “What is he giving us?”

Saba made a careless shrug. Ketac came in, with General Hanse just behind him.

Paula straightened. She let go of Tanuojin. Hanse had shrunk by fifty pounds. He walked awkwardly, slowly, not like a man in the dark: as if he were drugged. Tanuojin got her sleeve and pulled her arm behind her and held her. Hanse stopped between Saba and the door. Newrose went to him and spoke to him, touched him, and walked around him. Hanse stood speechless, moveless, unseeing.

“What happened?” Paula said to Tanuojin.

“It didn’t work.”

Leno had come deep into the room. His jaw stuck out. “What assurances are they giving you?”

“They’ll keep the agreement,” Paula said. “As long as it’s in their best interests.”

The Merkhiz Akellar stamped toward her. His gaze swiveled from Saba to Tanuojin. “Why do you trust her? Didn’t she double over on us in the Earth, that time? If you ask me, she’s one of them.”

Saba had gone off to the side of the room. David was with him. She tugged on Tanuojin’s grip and he freed her.

She said, “Leno, I won’t say who betrayed who on the Earth. Newrose is a Martian. You know what the Martians did to my Planet.” She went toward him three or four steps. Everybody was watching her.

Merkhiz said, “This smells rotten. Why would you help us?”

“Because you’re the only people I have left.” She stared up at his broad face. “I didn’t choose this, Akellar. All my friends are dead, because of you and the Martians.”

He said nothing for a moment. His round eyes gleamed. Finally he said, “From what I’ve heard of this arrangement, they’re giving us nothing but promises.”

She went past him, making him turn to keep up with her. Now she was facing Tanuojin, past Leno’s shoulder, and she spoke to him. “If you want to do it your way, do it your way. They’ll fight, you’ll have to go from dome to dome beating them down, you’ll be stuck here until the Planet comes around again. Let Bokojin be the Prima. I don’t care.” She turned her back on him and Leno and went over to Newrose.

“What’s going on?” Newrose said, low.

“Jabber-jabber.” Hanse’s slack face hung before her, his skin draped in folds over his cheeks. She waved her fingers under his eyes. “Hanse.” She patted his cheek. “Hanse!”

“He’s catatonic,” Newrose said. His lips tightened, grim.

“Take him out.”

Newrose like a nurse led the general away. She stood watching them maneuver through the door. She could guess what had happened. David touched her arm.

“Papa wants to see you.” His hand lay on her forearm. “Not all your friends are dead, Mother.” His voice trembled.

Tanuojin was leaving, Junna behind him. David tugged on her sleeve and she went to Saba.

“I don’t know what happened,” Newrose said. His face was rosy from the chilly air. Paula walked faster. Like a little terrier the Martian hurried along beside her. “Hanse can’t talk or think, the man can scarcely move.”

She led him into the corridor to Saba’s suite, lined with Styths. Leno had an office here, too, somewhere. She stopped at the table that blocked the way, and the aide sitting behind it got up and went to tell Saba that she was there.

“What do you want me to do?” she said to Newrose.

“Protest. Whatever they did to him was definitely contrary to all the rules regarding prisoners of war.”

“Tsk.” The book open on the table was the watch roster. She skewed around to read who Saba was meeting. Tanuojin had taken Ybix to the Earth. The aide came back.

“The Prima will see you, Mendoz’.”

Newrose stepped between her and the door. “Miss Mendoza, I’m serious about this.”

“Newrose,” she said, “you are a funny man. I was Hanse’s prisoner for six months. I have no sympathy for him.” She went past him down the corridor.

Saba was in his bedroom. Ketac let her in. He mumbled at her; his breath smelled foul. She said, “You don’t look so daisy-fresh,” and went past him into the room.

“I feel awful.”

The overstuffed chairs had been dragged back. At the foot of the bed was a table, up on blocks to fit a Styth, where Saba sat eating. David was waiting beside him to serve him. The Prima wiped his mouth on a white cloth. “You see,” he told Ketac, “she stops drinking before she makes herself sick. Vida, bring her a chair.”

“You were as drunk as I was,” Ketac said.

“I am never drunk.”