Confluence

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: EAN LAMBERT

Radko could take care of herself. Ean knew that, and he knew that hitching a ride on a ship guaranteed to deliver a cargo was a smart thing to do. A very Radko thing to do. She was fine.

He wished she’d call, though, and let them that know she was. Except according to Vega, if she called, it meant something was wrong.

The clock in his room showed 03:17 when he finally admitted he wasn’t going to get to sleep and made for the fresher. Maybe he’d sleep after a shower.

He listened to the lines and let the water flow wash over him. Ships on both fleets were calm. Except the Lancastrian Princess, which was edgy.

Captain Helmo was awake, sitting back in the captain’s chair on the bridge, fingers pressed together, doing his captain’s equivalent of listening to the lines.

Helmo and Ean had discussed it. Helmo didn’t hear anything.

“It’s all gut feel, Ean.”

“But you must hear something,” Ean had protested.

“Instinct, Ean. You know when something is not right, or something needs to be done. It may not even be to do with the lines. Maybe it’s experience. Someone doesn’t react the way I expect them to, or a ship noise is slightly off.”

Ean thought it was more like the cartel-trained linesmen, who learned to push at the lines, rather than tune them. “I think you’re getting messages, but you can’t interpret them. You think of them as your gut feel, but they’re not. You’re hearing them.”

“Define hearing, Ean,” Helmo had said. “No one denies the lines use sound. I can see that when I go onto one of the alien ships. It’s not sound waves that allow you to ‘hear’ me on the bridge from your room.”

“I listen through the lines.”

“It’s not acoustics that make you sound like a full choir when you sing. A single human larynx cannot physically make the sounds you make. There’s something else. You—we—interpret it as sound, but it’s more.”

However they interpreted it, Ean knew that right now Helmo was sitting in the captain’s chair because that was where the “instinct” was strongest. He looked for the origin of the trouble that Helmo was worried about. Yu’s quarters. No surprise there.

Yu and Michelle were drinking tea. At least Michelle was. Yu paced energetically around the room. He looked fresh, as if he could keep up the pace forever. Michelle was her usual inscrutable self, but Ean knew how many hours she’d spent awake over the last few nights, and he could feel exhaustion underneath the nagging worry.

“Your arrival has stirred up old worries about Lancia,” Michelle said. “Did you think you could come here—with the Factor of the Lesser Gods in tow—and expect nothing to change? Especially not when you brought Sattur Dow with you. The way he’s sniffing around the alien ships leads everyone to believe that the first thing you will do when Lancia has enough power is to gift him a ship.”

“Of course things have changed. They needed to change. Lancia was being ignored, pushed aside by the other worlds.”

“Two weeks ago, Lancia required seven extra worlds voting with them to gain a majority in parliament. Today, they need seventeen. Some change is not good, Father, and this one is bad.”

“Everything is working to plan, Daughter.”

Something like ice whispered through the lines and raised the hair on Ean’s arms. Even the fresher seemed cold, suddenly. The cold had a faint, fizzy, citrus tang to it. It was coming from Michelle.

Her voice showed none of it as she said, “If you have plans, Father, isn’t it time you told them to me? Perhaps I can help.”

Yu paused. He looked at her, head cocked to one side. “Perhaps it is time. But then what, Daughter? Will you take those plans to Galenos?”

“Should it matter if I did? Galenos is loyal to Lancia.”

“Is he? He blocks my every turn. He refuses to let my friends come to the capital of the New Alliance.” Yu stopped in front of Michelle. “He advises against my future son-in-law seeing his betrothed’s ships.”

“We restrict access to those ships inside the New Alliance,” Michelle said. “Why should we allow people who are not part of the New Alliance to see them before our own allies do?”

“Our allies? Is not the Worlds of the Lesser Gods a potential ally, too?”

“They have to earn the New Alliance’s trust. Having a high-profile member of their party attempt to steal ships for Redmond doesn’t help.”

Yu waved that away as if it were nothing. “Everyone has traitors in their midst, Daughter. Even I. And you can never tell who is trustworthy and who is not. Six months ago, I had not anticipated that Galenos—a man I trusted to look after my own daughter—would betray me with his own ambition.”

A wave of emotion so strong it manifested itself as a stab in the gut. Ean doubled over.

“I don’t see why you believe Admiral Galenos is betraying you. He has devoted his life to Lancia.”

The emotion was so strong, Ean couldn’t tell what it was. He staggered out of the fresher, and went back to sit on the side of the bed.

“Can you be sure he’s working for my Lancia?” Yu asked.

The waves grew stronger, a sudden tsunami of noise and bitterness—and purple worry. “I cannot believe you would say that about an honorable man like Galenos. Let us stop this farce, Father, and call this entire stupid conversation out for what it is.”

“Which is?”

Michelle glanced at him. Ean couldn’t read her expression, and he’d bet Yu couldn’t, either. “You are trying to discredit Galenos. I can only assume it is because you want to put your own puppet in the council here, and, unfortunately for you, there are only two ways to get onto the council. Wait six years for this term to run out and replace us then, or kill one of us now.”

Lancia had been the only world to protest at the six-year term, and the inability to exit—short of dying—once you were elected.

Michelle couldn’t be serious. But her lines said she was. No wonder she wouldn’t let Abram anywhere near the Lancastrian Princess while Yu was there.

“This time, Father, I refuse to stand by and watch you kill an innocent man. A good man, who only has the interests of Lancia at heart.”

Yu came to sit opposite Michelle. His overriding emotion was satisfaction. Was he pleased his daughter had seen through his plan? Proud of her for realizing the truth?

“You will have to kill me before you get to Abram.”

“Abram now, is it?”

Michelle tilted her chin. “Yes, it is.”

Ean sang a song of encouragement through the lines. “We’re here. We support you.”

Captain Helmo heard him. Would Michelle? Probably not. He pushed the full strength of his support through the lines, to the Lancastrian Princess, who echoed it and amplified it.

Michelle sat up straighter. Did he imagine her smile? He didn’t imagine the glance that she flicked toward the camera facing her.

“I am sorry to hear that.” And Yu did look regretful. “You will get over it. And you will have a new life. A political alliance by marriage to cement, allies to manage.”

“I have allies to manage here if I can. Your coming here has irretrievably damaged Lancia’s standing. If you have any political sense at all, you’ll go home and leave us to do damage control.” Then she added, bitterly, “If it isn’t too late.”

“Damage control.” Yu rolled the words around his mouth. “I see.” Another long pause. “Well, Daughter. I am not going home. Today, I go to Confluence Station as a guest of the Admiral Carrell of Eridanus.”

“Carrell?”

“A surprise inspection.” Yu smiled. “Being arranged at this very moment. Some members of the council are concerned that the Department of Alien Affairs is not looking out for all members of the New Alliance.”

A small frown creased Michelle’s forehead, but she didn’t say anything.

Yu’s smile widened. “Before that, I go onto the Gruen.” He reached across and patted her hand. “I might meet your linesman there. He’s so very hard to catch. If I hadn’t seen him at supper the other night, I might wonder if he even exists.”

Michelle looked away. “I doubt you will see him there. Lambert is taking the trainee linesmen out to the Confluence today.” Her gaze shifted, and the glance that flicked toward the camera was longer this time.

Message received and understood. “We will,” Ean sang although he was fairly sure Michelle didn’t hear him. He opened the comms to Helmo, who was sitting forward in his seat now. “If you get a chance, please tell Michelle I got her message. Make it discreet.”

Helmo nodded. “Anything else?”

“No.”

Ean pulled on his uniform and went out to the main control room. Hana and one of Rossi’s people were on duty.

“We’re taking the trainees to the Confluence today,” he told Hana.

The trainees hadn’t yet all passed the Rossi test. Peters, for one, was still denying he heard the lines though it was obvious he did. The three trainees from Lancia all said they did, but they hadn’t passed the Rossi test, either.

If Michelle had told Yu they would be on the Confluence, then that’s where they’d be.

The Confluence would be happy. More prospective crew. Ean would have to remind it that they weren’t all for the Confluence.

Hana woke Bhaksir, who woke Sale. Orsaya’s guard woke Orsaya’s aide, Captain Auburn.

Ean looked at the time. It was 04:02. “There wasn’t any need to wake people. We could have sorted this ourselves.”

But you couldn’t simply tell everyone to meet at a different ship. There were security clearances to organize, shuttles to schedule, and a whole lot of other bureaucracy to cover. How had Yu managed to arrange a visit without anyone’s knowing?

If they didn’t start now, they wouldn’t be ready in time, not unless it was deemed an emergency. Not to mention, if they started organizing it after Yu set out for Confluence Station, it would be obvious what they were doing.

“If you keep this up, Ean,” Sale said, “I’m doing the night shifts from now on. What’s your problem this time?”

“It’s not a problem. We’re taking the trainees to the Confluence today.”

“Since when?”

“Since about ten minutes ago, when Michelle said we were. Yu’s coming out to Confluence Station, and the Gruen. She said we wouldn’t be there because we’re training on the Confluence today.”

“I’ll call Admiral Orsaya,” Auburn said.

“And the ones Rossi hasn’t passed?” Sale asked.

Rossi wouldn’t pass up a chance to visit an eleven ship. Not when there was a choice. He’d talk his way into coming along. Somehow. Ean smiled. “Keep them on the Gruen. Rossi can train them.”

“I thought all the linesmen—”

“Yu didn’t mention Rossi.” Let Rossi work to find a reason to come along.

Orsaya came out then, as grumpy as Ean felt without much sleep. “Emperor Yu is coming here, you say. We haven’t given him permission. I wish the man would take himself and his unwelcome guests and go home. Although I fear—” Orsaya looked away from the Lancastrians and closed her lips on anything else she might have said.

What did she fear that she wouldn’t say? The same thing Michelle feared? That Yu was here to kill Abram to get his own seat on the council?

Sale spent the next hour reassigning paramedics and guards from the Gruen to the Confluence and getting security passes allocated for them.

“At least we’ve Lancastrian paramedics today. I can’t imagine how awkward explaining this would be if they were from some other world.”

Bach would have known and told Emperor Yu that the change had been a late one, but he was off supervising Jakob’s interrogation.

Jordan Rossi, allowed to sleep through till breakfast, came out looking refreshed and impeccable.

“I haven’t seen this much activity since the last time Lambert did something crazy. What’s he done this time?”

Ean got himself tea and nut paste with winter fruits. The one meal Ru Li and Hana couldn’t spoil because the nut paste was ordered in from Haladea, and the winter fruits came from the freezer. “I’m taking the trainees who have passed your test onto the Confluence for training today.”

“Rather sudden, isn’t it? Not to mention a total about-face from what you said—was it only yesterday—about not taking anyone onto the alien ships.”

“Circumstances change.”

“We’re taking Ean onto the Confluence to avoid Emperor Yu,” Sale said. “You’re on the Gruen, Rossi. With the ones you haven’t passed yet.”

“Surely you’d be smarter getting all the linesmen off ship.”

“We won’t undermine Ean like that.”

“I see.” And Rossi probably did see.

“We’d prefer everyone went,” Orsaya said.

Rossi sat back. “I know what you’re doing, bastard.”

“Then do something about it.”

Rossi sipped scalding hot tea while he pondered. Ean forced himself to sit and wait. Eventually, Rossi smiled. “Take them over. I want to address them when they arrive on the Confluence.”

“I don’t think I’m going to like this,” Sale said.

“You don’t have to, sweetheart. Lambert’s got a problem. I can fix it.”

They had an hour before they left for Confluence Station.

Michelle couldn’t keep Abram away from Yu forever. One day they’d meet. And Yu would kill Abram.

But if Abram was on ship, line eight could protect him. If Ean could work out how to make line eight come in when he needed it.

Ean found an empty room. “Let’s try the protection again,” he sang to the line.

He stopped when he saw Rossi standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

“Working with line eight.”

“You’re pushing at the line,” Rossi said. “Like those linesmen you despise so much. The ones who were taught by the cartels.”

“I don’t despise them.”

“Whatever you say. The fact remains; you’re forcing the line. On my home.” Rossi crossed his arms and waited.

“I wasn’t forcing the line.”

“You are pushing it to do something you want it to do. Isn’t that your definition of force?”

Rossi had a point. Trying to make the line do something in a way it didn’t understand could be seen as force. Ean sang a quick apology to line eight.

“Thank you. Now what were you trying to do?”

Ean would have to apologize to the Confluence lines tomorrow as well. Right now, he was marveling at the fact that Rossi had come to him to tell him he was doing something wrong. Rossi would never admit to helping someone even if he was. “I was trying to get line eight’s protective field to work.”

“And all that garbage you tell us about listening to the lines, and asking them to do things, rather than forcing them, is just that? Garbage?”

“Of course not.” But he had been, hadn’t he.

How did you say thank you to a man who wouldn’t appreciate your noticing what he was doing? You just said it. “Thank you, Rossi.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it because you’re mucking up lines that I fix. I don’t need a megalomaniac running around all power and no consideration for what he’s doing. You’re a level twelve. That doesn’t always make you right.” Rossi turned and walked away.

Ean watched where he went. Through the corridors, all the way down to the viewport. Ean didn’t go to the viewport often. He’d forgotten it was there. He remembered the linesmen, people he’d heard about but never before seen, being dragged out of that same area by Orsaya’s soldiers, back when she’d first tried to get the Confluence out of the void.

He watched Rossi pick up a half-finished glass of wine. He must have come from the viewport when he’d heard Ean forcing line eight.

Rossi took a mouthful of wine, closed his eyes, and leaned against the Plexiglass as he savored it. Ean tasted the wine along with him. Mellow, like a good Lancian wine should be.

For breakfast?

“Stay out of my mind, bastard.”

Ean left him there, losing himself in the music of the lines.