Joan Vinge - The Summer Queen

She thought suddenly of the tribunal that Vhanu had said was coming to pass judgment on his version of the truth against her own. What was it he had said, in the flood of his accusations, there in the storm—? They’re here, but they can’t land .

Was he holding her to display to them as an enemy of the Hegemony, the cause of Gundhalinu’s downfall? Or would she simply be kept here, locked away—not even given a chance to speak, until they had come and gone again, leaving him in charge? What would happen to her if he tried to force the truth from her … ?She let the thoughts come, every futile, fearful vision; let her mind fill with possible scenarios. She fingered them like beads in a necklace, trying to find some solution to each of them, because thought was the only thing left over which she had any control.

At last she heard the echoes of voices and footsteps, and knew that whichever way her fate was falling, she would know the outcome very soon.

She stood up, pulling her rumpled clothing straight again, as the guards came to take her out of her cell—different men this time, not the ones who had seen their Commander strike a defenseless prisoner.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, keeping her voice even as they locked her hands behind her.

“To the starport,” one of the guards said.

“Why?” she asked.

“Commander’s orders,” he said. They led her back through the dreary corridors and out of the station without further explanation.

The sea lung had passed; she could see clear daylight through the storm walls at the alley’s end. She wondered bleakly how her people were coping with this disaster—how many had been caught outside the safety of the city’s walls, injured or lost in the wild waters. She remembered the sight of the moorage below the city, nothing left to see but the impossible storm surge of the water, and swirling wreckage. She imagined that people would be down there already, below the city and along the shore, searching through what the sea had left them, sorting out their lives. She wondered what they would make of her disappearance, in the middle of all this. People at the palace knew she had been taken by the Police; the constabulary must know that Jerusha was the Hegemony’s prisoner. Word would spread—

But the storm that had saved the mers and driven Vhanu to this act of vengeance might work to his advantage after all, as recovery diffused the energy of any protest the Tiamatans might make. She had no illusions, either, that Vhanu would not move swiftly to put someone in her place, probably a Winter. Kirard Set was gone to the Mother, but there were too many of his old acquaintances still in the city, waiting for their opportunity to regain Winter’s lost power. And there was no one left who had the authority or influence to protect Summer’s interests against them… .

They were in the transit tunnel already, on a shuttle threading rings of light like a needle through the darkness. She knew from experience that they would be inside the starport in a matter of minutes. And then … “Am I being deported?” she asked, suddenly unable to endure the pressure of the unknown any longer. “Am I going to disappear, like the Chief Justice? Where are you taking me? I am the Queen. I have a right to know. I want to know where you’re taking me!”

The squad of guards surrounding her in the otherwise empty car looked at each other. “The Commander said bring you to the starport, Lady. He didn’t say why.” The patrolman who had spoken to her before shrugged, and glanced away. No one else spoke; they avoided looking at her.

The shuttle reached its terminus, and they took her up through the starport’s interior, leading her finally to the reception hall in which she had once met the Prime Minister and the Hegemonic Assembly. The wide window-wall at the far side of the room showed her the glowing grids of the landing field, below and beyond it.

She entered the room, surprised; saw Vhanu turn to stare at her, across the expanse of deep blue carpet. He was surrounded by a small cluster of government officials, most of whom she recognized. He kept watching as she approached; his gaze lay somewhere between unease and satisfaction. The other faces around him watched her too, wearing a mixture of expressions.

Her instinctive reaction, as she saw them there, was relief. If Vhanu meant to deport her secretly, this was not how he would do it. But if that was not what he intended, then she suddenly had no idea what her presence here meant.

The guards halted her beside Vhanu, and he returned their salutes. Looking away from his eyes, she stiffened as she saw someone enter the hall from the other side.

Vhanu turned, seeing her stare. The others turned with him, as the new arrivals were escorted into the room: a dozen more Kharemoughis, of varying ages and both sexes, all of them with the aristocratic features and unconsciously arrogant manner of Technicians. Some wore uniforms, others wore the discreetly sophisticated, sexless clothing of highborn citizens. One, she saw, wore a trefoil. She knew without being told that this was the tribunal Vhanu had been waiting for.

They looked, in varying degrees, relieved and weary and glad to find themselves finally at the end of their journey. They all looked pleased, and somewhat curious, at the size of their welcoming committee.

Moon glanced again at Vhanu. She saw recognition and sudden pleasure fill his face. “Pematte-sadhu!” he exclaimed, starting forward to greet the leader of the group. The man he called out to smiled, and held up his hand. Vhanu touched it in a greeting between equals. They spoke together in rapid Sandhi; she heard them use the informal thou , and realized that they were friends, possibly even related somehow.

She waited, understanding her function here at last; feeling her hope gutter as Vhanu led the tribunal members forward. She had been brought here to be displayed as a scapegoat. But Vhanu had not dared to have her gagged; she could still speak for herself. She gathered her thoughts, watching them come.

“—I say, Vhanu, couldn’t we perhaps delay these matters for a bit? We’re all extremely fatigued,” Pernatte was protesting, his initial animation fading rapidly.

“Forgive me for pressing thee,” Vhanu said. “But a series of events have occurred since our last communication that have made it vital for us talk now, before we enter the city.” He looked toward Moon, his face hardening.

“Oh?” Pernatte said, with overtones of annoyance. He followed Vhanu’s glance until his eyes reached Moon’s face. “What’s this?” he asked, his frown deepening.

“This woman,” Vhanu gestured at her, “is the reason I must inconvenience thee.”

Pernatte stopped in front of her. “This pale, bedraggled creature? Is she Tiamatan? She hardly looks capable of inconveniencing anyone—”

“She speaks Sandhi,” Vhanu said.

“Oh.” Pernatte looked back at her.

“She’s the Summer Queen.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes,” Moon said stiffly. “And I do not need Commander Vhanu to speak for me.”

Pernatte frowned again, glancing at Vhanu. “And thou’ve brought her here as a prisoner? This is a drastic step. What in the name of a thousand ancestors is happening here?”

“That is what I need to explain to thee,” Vhanu said, grim-faced.

Pernatte nodded, finally. “I trust thou will be brief and to the point.” He did not look at Moon again, or acknowledge her presence further. The other members of the tribunal committee fanned out behind him, watching and listening in weary resignation.

“Yes, sadhu, I shall.” Vhanu drew himself up. The tension radiating from him, and from the officials grouped behind him, was almost a physical heat.