Vernor Vinge - The Children of the Sky

Nevil turned toward the airship, a stupefied expression flickering across his face. “Um, yes. Of course, I meant—” Nevil was actually floundering! It was heartwarming, even if it took a crazypack like Tycoon to make it happen.

Zek’s voice rode over Nevil’s: “However much we are allies, we have independent interests. I want to know Ravna and Woodcarver’s intentions—”

“Yes, certainly—”

“—and I think a private meeting is in order.”

Nevil’s expression was fixed and blank. He turned and had a short, emphatic conversation with Bili. When he turned back to the crowd he was smiling again, literally putting the best face on the inevitable. “I agree, sir.” He gestured in Ravna’s direction. “I can only hope that Ravna has sufficient trust to meet with you.”

And now Ravna was the center of attention. “I’d be happy to chat with Mr. Radio. As, as for privacy, he’s welcome in one of our tents.”

In her ear, Woodcarver said, “Good.”

“That’s not really private.” Zek’s voice was uncompromising. “Please come aboard. My employer guarantees your safety. You may leave as soon as you wish.”

“No!” hissed Woodcarver. “Tycoon already has Johanna, and he’s clearly nuts.”

Across the field, Flenser was still visible, though beyond the range of focused sound. He was looking back at Ravna, and now gave her a surreptitious, encouraging wave. So this world’s deepest student of treachery thought she should trust Tycoon—but wanted that advice kept secret?

Ravna slowly walked to the base of the airship’s steps. Those seconds gave her no insight, but Scrupilo and Woodcarver were full of anxious objections. Benky and Øvin came running over. “You’re not going in alone,” Øvin said. Where was Jefri?

From the top of the steps, Zek gazed down at her. “I said private, Ravna. Leave these others behind you.”

Nevil was looking less puzzled and more satisfied. This was outside his game plan, but he seemed to figure that no matter what, it would work to his benefit.

Woodcarver: “ Ssst! What does Amdi say?”

Jefri and Amdi were still with the other rescuees, also beyond the range of focused sound. Like everyone else, they were just … watching. Jefri was on his knees, close to Amdi, his gaze fixed on Ravna. So was Amdi’s. They looked very much as they had that day by the arrow trees.

“It’ll be okay, Øvin,” she said softly. And then more loudly: “I’m going aboard.”

• • •

The inside of the airship smelled of packs and humans all crammed together. In fact, this was the ship she and Jefri had flown in; she recognized the dings and scratches. Funny that she hadn’t noticed the smell then. Behind her, somepack ominously slammed the hatch closed. Ah. It was the innocuous steward, not a gunpack.

Zek turned left and led her along the main corridor, toward the bow. Ritl stuck close to Zek. She was making a singsong racket that probably didn’t amount to anything. Every so often, Zek emitted a chord that meant roughly “please be quiet already.”

Zek’s new human voice said, “We’ll talk on the command deck. It’s been properly muffled against eavesdropping.”

Woodcarver’s voice came faintly in her ear, maybe inaudible to Zek: “Except for me and Scrupilo! Just pretend we’re not here.”

“That’s fine,” said Ravna. Her words might have been a reply to Zek’s comment. She glanced down at the singleton. “So, Zek, who are you speaking for right now?”

Zek emitted a very natural-sounding human chuckle. “This is really just me, Mr. Radio. It’s good to see you, Ravna.”

Ah?

They had reached the end of the corridor. Zek scooted up the spiral stairs with Ritl close behind. Ravna had the usual problems winding around the spiral. Up top—

Up top, Johanna sat on one of Tycoon’s perches. She had a huge grin on her face.

Ravna must have let out a shriek, for Johanna put a finger to her lips. “We’re shielded, but there are limits—and we don’t want people to think you’re being tortured.” She bounced to her feet and they had a big hug, not saying anything for a moment.

Then Ravna stepped back, speechless. She’d had surprises this big in the past—but rarely pleasant ones. Now she could only wave her hands inarticulately. On her private link, Woodcarver and Scrupilo sounded even more confused than Ravna.

“It’s Johanna,” Ravna finally said.

“Yup. It’s really me. I’m really alive, unharmed, and happy to see you.”

“And you’re not a prisoner?”

“No … I could walk off this ship right this minute. But I’m not going to.” Jo wasn’t smiling anymore. She turned and looked through the gauzy quilting that covered the bow windows. Outside, the sun was so bright that you could see the landscape ahead of the ship. “I’m sorry to mislead my friends, though I’m sure Jefri already knows the truth.” She waved at Ravna’s tiara. “And I’ll bet Woodcarver does too.”

Ravna nodded and touched the tiara. Now Woodcarver’s voice was audible in the room: “Yes, I’m here. Scrupilo, too. I think I’ve figured out what’s going on. This is all to set up secret cooperation with Tycoon?”

“That’s pretty much it. And I’m here to convince you of Tycoon’s good will.”

Ravna put in, “She looks fine to me, Woodcarver.”

Woodcarver: “And what of Pilgrim?”

Johanna brashness disappeared. Suddenly, she looked like she’d walked into a wall. “I … I think Pilgrim is dead, at least dismembered. Vendacious chased him into the Choir. Woodcarver, can we talk about this, just you and me?”

Woodcarver’s voice came back after the briefest of pauses: “Certainly, but later.”

“O-Okay.” Johanna turned back to the bow windows and didn’t say anything more for a long moment. A couple of Benky’s troopers were visible, patrolling back and forth. “I think this maneuver has fooled Nevil.” Some of the sass crept back into her voice. “Tyco! Are you listening?”

Zek emitted a different voice now. It sounded like Timor, but grumpier. “Of course I’m listening. You want me to explain my change of hearts, right?”

“Yes. You spent years trying to find and kill me. What happened to change that? Keep it short since we have people outside waiting for Ravna.”

“Very well, but I don’t want anyone to think that I change my mind lightly. My resolve is nearly infinite. I would never have succeeded in the Tropics otherwise. And yet, part of me was always suspicious of Vendacious—even as he was enormously helpful to me. I noticed that the humans I met were not monsters. When Mr. Radio spoke up for the humans, that made me just curious enough not to kill Johanna the instant I saw her.”

“Yes, thank you for that,” said Jo.

“But it put me in a difficult position,” Tycoon continued. “Fortunately, I’m a very quick thinker. I had to get away from Nevil and his beam gun. That weapon supposedly has a range of hundreds of kilometers and I needed hours of safe passage. So I grabbed Johanna and took off, all the time giving Nevil hope that I was still willing to deal with him.”

Jo nodded. “Tyco and I had a very … tense afternoon. It was like what you saw on Nevil’s stage, but spread out over hours. I think Scriber’s invention notebook made the difference.”

Tycoon: “Scriber used to bore me so much with his notebooks. Talking to Johanna, I could see Scriber had irritated her the same way. She hadn’t murdered him, she’d just wanted to. We both had rejected him … and we both had spent years regretting the act. And I had been wrong about Johanna. I don’t often make mistakes, but when I do, they can be of awesome proportions. I’ve used the tendays since to revise my strategies.”