Линда Нагата - Edges

Urban issued an advisory: *Five minutes until we commence acceleration.

*Ready , Clemantine acknowledged. Kona and Vytet echoed her assurance.

At the scheduled hour he directed the philosopher cells to accelerate. They fed the propulsion reef with pulses of fierce ultraviolet radiation, enough to stimulate activity across its surface.

The reef was an aggregate entity, like a coral reef, made of billions of tiny cooperating organisms—polyps—layer upon layer of them, with those on the surface seeming most alive.

The polyps functioned in a manner so utterly alien Urban speculated they had originated in some other Universe. Each was capable of synthesizing nanoscale particles of exotic matter from the zero point field—matter that decayed in an instant—but with a billion events per microsecond the cumulative effect was to tweak the structure of space-time. Not randomly.

The reef was positioned far forward, at the bow. The polyps worked in concert to create a steepening gradient aimed away from the slight gravitational distortion of the ship’s mass. The reef accelerated along that gradient, and Dragon came with it, the ship’s velocity slowly growing.

The outriders accelerated at the same time, each powered by its own propulsion reef and piloted by a DI. From the high bridge, the lateral lines of Dragon ’s gravitational sensor let Urban detect the signature of Khonsu ’s reef, and more faintly, that of Artemis . The other outriders were too far ahead to be seen or sensed.

As the rate of acceleration increased, that version of Urban within the warren drifted toward the designated floor and began to walk. The ship’s company joined him—Clemantine, Kona, and Vytet. They sat together at a table, and ate and drank as if they were on a world. A convenient situation, but temporary.

Urban took the fleet to thirty-five percent light speed and then he dampened the activity of the reef, leaving Dragon to coast toward its faraway destination in the Hallowed Vasties. The reef could pull the ship to much higher velocities, but as Dragon ’s speed increased so did the risk of collision. Interstellar space was not empty, and even a tiny object could severely damage or destroy the ship if it impacted the hull at a significant percentage of light speed.

Even at this compromise velocity, molecules of dust and gas constantly bombarded the hull cells. The cells renewed themselves, but Dragon slowly bled mass. That mass would eventually need to be replaced.

“Is this what you wanted?” Clemantine asked one evening, not long after Dragon ceased to accelerate. The warren had returned to a zero-gravity configuration. Ribbons of faintly glowing wall-weed again lined the oval interior of her private chamber. She drifted in the cozy space, one arm around Urban, a leg hooked over his, skin to skin. Shared sweat, shared warmth. She gazed at his face, at the sheen of his eyes under half-closed lids. Shared tranquility, after a long session of deeply attentive love-making.

“Having you here?” he asked in a low, almost hoarse voice. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”

Clemantine wanted the truth.

She ran two fingers down the smooth skin of his chest and, with a sharp edge of accusation in her voice, she said, “I trusted you.”

This induced an unmistakable tension in his body, an acceleration in his breathing—unwelcome evidence that her emerging suspicion was not misplaced.

“Look at me,” she said.

He obeyed, turning his head until they gazed at one another. She read guilt in the worried set of his eyes, but his confused frown hinted he wasn’t certain what he was being accused of.

Multiple options, then? Interesting. She would have to investigate further, but right now, she just wanted an honest answer on the status of the gee deck.

She said, “I talked to the Bio-mechanic today. The Engineer was there too.”

“Uh-huh?” Low, puzzled syllables rising from deep in his throat. He clearly had no idea what she was getting at—and that surprised her.

She said, “The basic structure of the gee deck has been designed. A site’s been determined. A construction plan is in place.”

Still no hint of enlightenment breaking through his perplexed expression, so she expanded on her complaint. “Construction should have begun as soon as we ceased acceleration. But nothing’s been done. I asked the Apparatchiks why. Both were irked. They said they were ready to begin. They would have begun already, but you’d withheld permission—”

“No, wait.” He grasped her concern at last. “That’s not what’s going on.”

“Then you did give them permission to proceed?”

“No.”

Anger flared. She started to untangle herself from him.

“Wait,” he insisted, his arm tightening around her. “ Listen to me. Vytet asked for more time, that’s all. She’s concerned. She and the Engineer can cross-check each other’s work, but no one has ever cross-checked the Bio-mechanic’s knowledge base. Vytet wants time to confirm his studies, his experiments, his conclusions. That makes sense, doesn’t it? It makes sense to take the time to confirm our knowledge base before launching a major, invasive project.”

Her hand slid back up his chest, came to rest beside his throat. “You’re saying you want to confirm six hundred years of studies and experiments?”

“It’s not me,” he protested. “Vytet asked for more time. That’s all.”

“And you gave it to her because you don’t trust the Bio-mechanic?”

“I do trust the Bio-mechanic. I wouldn’t be alive if the Bio-mechanic made mistakes.”

“Then why are you doing this?” Her fingers pressed a little too hard into his flesh.

“Vytet asked for more time,” he repeated, wriggling to escape her grip. She let him go. Even gave him a little push. “She just wants to make sure there are no mistakes,” he explained.

Clemantine said, “It feels like you’re trying to delay the project.”

A dark scowl. “And end up with your hand at my throat?”

She held up her hand, palm out. “Tell the Apparatchiks they can start the project. If it’s going to take years, we need to get started.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “It’s done. Whatever you want.”

“Thank you.”

He had drifted against the opposite wall of the little chamber, where fresh trousers had already budded. He tugged them on. A shirt appeared next. He grabbed it, put it on.

She felt a little guilty. She’d been wrong about him. He wasn’t trying to delay the project. He’d just been accommodating Vytet’s obsessive concerns. And still, she’d shaken him up with that line, I trusted you . She’d seen a flash of guilt—but whatever weighed on his conscience had nothing to do with the construction of the gee deck.

“I do trust you,” she said aloud, just to see how he would react.

This time he was ready, his signature half-smile, taunting her. “It’s not like you have a choice.”

She hissed. His grin widened—a dangerous delay before he darted for the gel door. She dove, intercepting him before he could make his escape, slamming him against the waving wall-weed. “Ah, son,” she crooned, biting at his earlobe as they bounced back across the chamber, “don’t ever underestimate me.”

He laughed and protested, “I was joking. Ow! ”

“Of course you were joking.”

“I was .”

Even so, it was true she had no choice but to trust him—which put the obligation on her to verify that trust.

Clemantine sent a ghost to the library to confirm that the process of construction had truly started. The Engineer and the Bio-mechanic surprised her by appearing within their frames a moment after she arrived. Always before, they’d come only when summoned.