L Modesitt - Empress of Eternity

"How long will it take us to set up?" he asked as he set down the last crate beside those already carried in by the spec-ops techs.

"A week…if nothing?s broken and everything goes right. Another few days for testing and calibration, and then we?ll see."

Duhyle stepped back as the subcaptain walked up the ramp.

"Commander, ser. All the equipment is out of the transport."

"Thank you, Subcaptain." Helkyria glanced at Duhyle. "If…if you?d show the techs to their quarters on the lower level. The subcaptain will have the smaller main-level chamber."

"Yes, Commander." The situation was now definitely security-defined.

Once he had the remaining seven techs and the driver settled into the long chamber that served as a barracks of sorts, Duhyle made his way back up the ramp to the main level and then toward the bottom of the ramp to the workroom. He listened.

"They were waiting, ser," offered the subcaptain.

"Why do you think I had you move behind the station so quickly? If we had entries here large enough for vehicles, there wouldn?t have been any problem at all. But then, without the attack, Security wouldn?t have been able to find and neutralize the Aesyr submersible."

"Ser…"

"You don?t like being a target, Subcaptain? Neither do I, especially when it takes away from research that just might have a possibility of averting more unrest and more deaths in the years to come."

"What about the reports? Won?t they bring more attacks?" The junior officer?s voice was lower, but tighter.

"Unless I?m mistaken," said Helkyria, "there won?t be any reports at all, even on the subnets."

"Ser? What about Tech Maruk?"

"I?m certain his death will be reported as an accident. Aren?t all spec-ops? deaths accidents? As for the rockets, the Magistra of Security won?t report the attack, and Security will be waiting to hacktrack any reports of the attack. The Aesyr know that. They won?t risk trying to leak it, not after the destruction of the submersible. That would compromise their nets. They might try to get some naive idealist to do it, but after what happened to the Sudaarn Student Activists who became a WCE front…I don?t think that there are many idealists stupid enough to want to announce a part in an offense involving attempted premeditated homicide and treason."

Duhyle understood that, but how long could Security keep tightening the pressure on people while rations were being stretched thinner and thinner? Or could they keep doing it for just that reason? How long before the Aesyr forced a plebiscite on the Vanir government by causing more and more unrest and blaming it on the Vanir?

He shrugged, then turned and headed back down to the kitchen. He?d be feeding more mouths, and he needed to plan the meals based on what he had in the storeroom…in addition to assembling and testing all the new equipment.

When he stepped off the canal-runner outside the tube-train station in Daelmar, Maertyn scarcely glanced back at the vehicle that was little more than a steamer powered by a solar flash boiler and a biofuel boost, with a single long car attached to the antique engine. The front half of that car served for freight and the rear for passengers, both freight and passengers almost entirely destined from or to the various Reserve posts along the canal. How much longer the Unity could afford to maintain those posts was open to question.

Maertyn carried but a shoulder bag, since he had a full wardrobe at the town house in Caelaarn, in fact a far greater wardrobe there than at the station. He hitched the strap higher as he crossed the street and walked toward Haarlan?s Victualary, the third narrow front to the east opposite the tube-station arch. The first front he passed was the Outfittery-closed, as it usually was. Maertyn wondered how long the owner would even keep up the pretense of the business.

The girl sitting before the screen and behind the counter at Harlaan?s looked up as Maertyn entered.

He recognized her as Harlaan?s niece, although she was a white-blonde, so unlike her grizzled uncle. "Eylana…I?d like to order a side of lamb and a half score of fowl to be sent to the canal weather station on twoday, along with an assortment of whatever greenery and vegetables are the freshest."

"Yes, Lord Maertyn." While it was clear from her initial glance that Eylana hadn?t immediately recognized him, she was bright enough to deduce his identity from the order and destination, as well as his maroon and silver-gray travelsuit. "Would you like anything else?"

Maertyn considered, then nodded politely. "The same order two weeks from next twoday."

"For the two, sir, it will be one hundred thirty-seven, including the delivery charge."

"That will be satisfactory. Thank you." Maertyn pressed his personal credpass against the old-style recorder. A faint chime sounded.

"Thank you, sir. We do appreciate your patronage."

"You?re more than welcome." He smiled politely, but warmly, before turning and leaving the victualary.

The street was nearly empty, as always, except for a steamcart headed eastward in the direction of the methane extraction works, and the associated power-generation facility. He strode across the broad expanse of composite, once necessary to handle a long-vanished rush of vehicles, to the wide sidewalk on the south side and then through the entry archway and down the ramp toward the single platform under the station, carpeted in what amounted to a form of hard-surfaced, and slow-growing, self-repairing, deep gray lichen. From the top of the ramp he could see that the left-hand side of the platform was vacant, while the three linked shimmering sleek gray cylindrical cars on the right awaited passengers.

For all that he knew Maarlyna was far safer at the canal station with Shaenya and Svorak, and the nearby Reserve guards, than in the capital, he still worried about leaving her for so long-and the fact that once he was in Caelaarn, even more unforeseen circumstances were likely to arise and delay his return. Yet he couldn?t have ignored the summons of Minister Hlaansk, pretext as it mostly likely was, not when he needed the additional equipment to have even a chance of discovering anything meaningful about the canal.

Just short of the entry kiosk and the gates that blocked unpaid entry to the trains, on the side of the platform awaiting the late-afternoon inbound train, Maertyn saw a figure in a scarlet singlesuit. He couldn?t recall when he?d seen brilliant scarlet as the sole color of apparel. The wearer looked to be a woman with short-cropped hair, either silver or white-blond, and an angular face that still appeared close to androgynous. Was she an ice-sport who?d crossed the canal to tempt some unfortunate from the dwindling population of Daelmar?

He shook his head. Despite the lore, the Unity had proven long ago that there were no ice-sports, rumors and reports to the contrary. Yet the unfounded rumors persisted.

Still…his eyes lingered on her slim figure, with only the hint of curves, just enough to suggest femininity.

In her hands was a metallic rectangle that caught light from some source he could not see…or generated its own. Her head lifted from the metallic gleam, and her eyes focused on him. For the briefest moment, her eyes seemed to linger on him before she turned and retreated back into the shadows to the north of the ramp and kiosk.

What was that about? It was almost as though he were the ice-sport…or the oddity, rather than the lord of a distinguished, if financially diminished, line.

Maertyn hurried to the kiosk and swiped his credpass through the beam beside the gate.

"Car two, third compartment," the kiosk announced as the deep green gate-bars recessed.