Sun of Suns

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"THAT'S A PRINT from the second dynastic era of Keppery," said the courtier helpfully, indicating the garish splash of lime-green and beige plastered like an insult on the banquet hall's wall. Venera was about when she noticed what was happening near the doors.

"Excuse me." She sought out her husband, who was placidly sipping his fourth glass of wine next to Reiss. Gravity was taking its toll on them both. Venera leaned close and snapped, "They're locking us in."

"Wonderful news, dear," said Reiss obliviously. "The government of Gehellen has agreed to grant shore leave to your shipmates. Why, I believe if we visit the postern window over there we might even be able to see them disembarking."

Chaison was staring over Venera's shoulder with a puzzled expression on his face. "I do believe you're right, dear. And who are those people who just came in?"

Without glancing around, Venera said, "Compact, nondescript faces, no expressions, efficient movements, simple clothing?"

"Why yes, how did you—"

"Father bought a few of those from Falcon Formation, if I recall. They're secret policemen, love, you wouldn't recognize them because of your appalling lack of education in certain areas." She kept the smile on her face—in truth, it was no more false now than it had been ten minutes ago. "We're about to be arrested, I believe, and our men are being herded off the ships."

Ambassador Reiss sputtered. "They can't do—"

"Think of something, fast," hissed Venera as she heard someone with slow confident steps approaching from behind. "Excuse me," said a voice that might have been stamped out of the same press as Carrier's.

Venera looked into Chaison's eyes, and saw something she'd never seen before—he was furious in some silent and calculated way that he'd never shown her.They had been separated during the battle with the pirates but she had heard he'd shot some men from the Rook's hangar. The leader who had done that was not the man she bickered with over dinner, who gave in so easily on domestic matters that it drove her to distraction. She'd hoped to meet that man someday, but under better circumstances.

Chaison Fanning was about to kill someone. Venera realized that it was time for her to get out of his way. She began to step to the side, saw his eyes widen, and felt a hand descend on her shoulder—

—And then a concussion sent her to her knees as stone and glass cascaded over her like water.

She looked up, blinking away dust, to see Chaison leaping over her as though she were a discarded chair in some bar brawl. A familiar roar filled the banquet hall, its presence here such a shocking violation of the order of things that it froze Venera in place for a moment. She whirled, one hand still on the grit-spalled floor, and saw indistinct figures struggling in a tunnel of spiraling dust. The stink of burning kerosene filled the air.

"Come on!" Hayden Griffin reached out of the cloud. His grim face and jacket's torn shoulder blazed into perfect clarity in a shaft of Candesce's light. Just as she moved to take his hand, however, he spun around and the sword in his other hand flashed a blur over her head. Someone screamed in the white opacity of dust that surrounded him.

"Officers to me!"That was Chaison's voice. A pistol shot startled Venera into standing up. Aubri Mahallan appeared, smoking weapon in her hand. "Sir, it's a trap," Griffin was telling Chaison. "Dentius got here ahead of us. He must have cut a deal with Gehellen for part of the treasure."

"Details later," said Chaison. "Officers, to me! We have to get back to the ships!"

Venera looked up. There was a jagged hole in the wall where the intricate stone and stained-glass rose window had been. "Ah," she said to no one in particular. "But what—?"

Something in the corner was rolling around belching fire and heat and the cloying odor of kerosene. Suddenly Venera realized that it was the black racing bike she had Griffin flying, and every-thing came together for her.

"You came through the window?" Mahallan grinned tightly. "It was his idea." A chaos of screaming men and clashing swords surrounded her. Venera was standing at the pivot-point of an actual sword fight, not one of those staged duels from her father's house that ended in a scratched cheek. Men were dying. For some reason she was shaking, which hadn't happened even when she shot the captain of the Rook. "How are we getting out of here?" she asked Mahallan. "Climb out the window and jump off the town? Then we're in the city, I guess we could fly back to the ships…" But Mahallan was shaking her head.

"We'd be easy targets in the open air," she said. "We have to get a vehicle."

"There." Venera pointed at the rattling, smoking bike. "Not sure we can get it up to the window," said Mahallan, "and anyway, it'll only carry three."

Venera pressed her hand. "I'm sure you can hold them off long enough for Chaison and me to escape."

The armorer stared at her. "I'm going to assume that you're joking."

"Sometimes I don't know myself." Just then a wall of Rook officers reared into view out of the dust. They were being forced back by a mass of men pouring in from the opened doors at the far end of the ballroom. The Slipstreamers were already outnumbered three to one and it was just going to get worse.

"This is hopeless!" shouted the handsome one,Travis. His sword was bloody and his hair matted to his forehead. "There's a whole army coming the way we need to go."

"We need to clear that hallway," said Chaison. "Oh, for a rocket."

"How about a jet?" It was Hayden Griffin, appearing again out of the dust. This time his face was in shadow and he looked savage with his sword and ripped leathers.

He ran to the corner and dodged the angry lunges of the downed bike until he could grab its handlebars. Then he was in its saddle, feet skidding across the floor as he tried to manhandle it into submission. "Out of the way!" he screamed. Travis turned, yelled, and grabbed the shoulder of the man next to him. They hit the floor exposing several startled Gehellen swordsmen.

"Aerie!" That wasn't the battle cry Venera had expected but she didn't care—the vision of Griffin opening the throttle all the way and shooting across the ballroom in a shower of sparks would stay with her for the rest of her life. Men flew through the air but the bike continued to accelerate as it crossed the hall. Venera screamed something that was half cheer, half obscenity, and reached for an enemy sword that had fallen at her feet. Travis and the other Rook officers were also screaming as they poured into the breach Griffin had made in the enemy's line.

The building shook to a deep whoomp! and a flash of light pierced the corridor down which the bike had shot. Mahallan gave a shriek and Venera thought, So much for my driver. But no, when they entered the corridor in a knot of Rook officers it was to find Hayden Griffin lying among the soldiers he had knocked aside. He levered himself to his feet as Venera placed the tip of her sword against the throat of an enemy who had the temerity to try to do the same. "Stay there," she said to the man cheerfully.

"Jumped off the bike when it cleared the doors," Griffin was saying to Mahallan. "Come on." He limped ahead. Mahallan just stood there for a moment, hands to her face.

Venera clapped her on the shoulder. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's kill some men."

To her surprise Mahallan laughed and readied her pistol. "Yes!" They ran after the officers.

The end of the corridor was a mass of flame; the bike's kerosene tank had burst. Behind the flames cursing soldiers waited. Several fired random shots and one of the Slipstreamers went down with a bullet to the neck. Meanwhile Travis was vigorously kicking down the paneled sidewall a few feet from the fire. "This way!"

They piled into what looked like a servants' corridor. Chaison indicated left with his sword. "But that's where the soldiers are coming from!"Venera objected.

"It's the way to the entrance," he said. "I'm not about to end the day with my back to a wall." He ran in that direction without waiting for an answer.

Startled servants jumped out of the way; they were almost comical with their stiltlike legs and frightened looks. Venera felt powerful and alive, galvanized by the knowledge that she was probably going to the here. For the moment, following her husband through shouting and screams, she didn't care.

HE ONLY HAD time for quick glances as they ran, but what Hayden saw of the Gehellen's servants' rooms was strange and disturbing. There were pulley systems that people raised gravity-free could use to glide from room to room. They passed one nine-foot man—who couldn't have weighed more than one hundred fifty pounds-dangling helplessly from one of these, weak feet scuffing the floor frantically as he tried to get out of the way. Nobody hurt him. There were lots of rolling carts, crutches and soft seats, and most of the side rooms had big tanks of water in which men and women floated, exhausted, during their infrequent duty breaks.

"It's like a fucking hospital," muttered Travis as they passed a group of servants who cowered on their cots.

Gunfire ripped at them from up ahead. "They've blocked us," said Fanning with no trace of surprise.

Somebody cursed colorfully. Hayden turned to see an elaborately dressed man with a wine-stain birthmark gesturing from a side door. "This way, you fools!"

Fanning raised an eyebrow. "Well, follow the man," he directed. This man, a dignitary of some sort, had circled around through unknown means and now held open a door to the palace's formal spaces. Hayden found himself in a huge atrium with curving staircases sweeping up to either side. The portraits on the wall were double or triple life-sized. Fanciful beasts were carved into the banister posts. There was distant shouting, but so far no enemy feet had disturbed the deep red pile carpet. "Don't stand there gawking, up, up!" raged the dignitary. As he followed the mob of officers he added, "You might have thought to ask directions from the one man among you who's familiar with the layout of this place."

"Thought you were dead, Reiss," said Fanning with a shrug. "In there!" Hayden allowed himself to be herded through a stout-framed door in the cavernous upstairs hallway. This brought him into a tall galleried library whose far wall was entirely composed of beveled-glass windows. There was only one other door and immediately some men ran to secure it. "Now where?" Fanning asked Reiss.

While the two talked and gestured, Hayden sought out Aubri. She was standing with Venera Fanning, who looked calm and composed as always. "Are you all right?"

Aubri nodded. "I honestly didn't think that window-crashing tiling was going to work."

"I only did it because you didn't tell me not to. You're the technical one! I assumed you'd have said something."

"Oh."

Venera laughed. "You have to tell me how all of this came about."

Hayden was distracted by nearby shouting. Fanning was yelling at Reiss. "But we've got to keep moving!"

The ambassador stood his ground. "Admiral, sooner or later, we're going to have to jump off this town. There is no way to get to the docks. This library juts out from the edge of the wheel; it's the best jumping-off point."

"Trapped!" One of the men at the far door waved. "They're coming this way in force."

"This way too!"

"Well, that's just splendid," muttered Fanning.

"Richard, what is going on here?"

All conversation stopped for a moment. Two richly dressed women, unnoticed until now, stood with fans in their hands in the center of the room. When Reiss saw them he blanched (wine stain momentarily fading) and stammered, "L-Lady Dristow, what a surprise! I, I mean—"

The older of the pair strode forward, fan flicking above her robin's-egg-blue bodice. "We came here hoping to have a quiet conversation, Richard. Not to be burst in upon by a covey of hysterical barbarians with swords." She looked down her nose at Admiral Fanning. "You are disturbing the peace, sir."

"Secure the doors," said Fanning. "And tear down those curtains! They might come in handy." Then he turned to the women. "Our apologies, madam. Circumstances have forced us to commandeer your library for a few minutes. I suggest you leave before the shooting starts."

"We will do no such thing!"The matron pointed her fan at the admiral, stabbing it rhythmically at him as she spoke. "Richard, tell this man how out of his depth he is. He does not speak to one such as myself. You must leave this place, sir, not I!"

The crack of a gunshot made Hayden jump. Lady Dristow shrieked as the fan she was holding exploded in a thousand flinders.

Hayden turned. Venera Fanning stood with one hand behind her back, the pistol straight-armed and aimed at Lady Dristow's head. "Shut," she said slowly, "up."

Chaison Fanning seemed to be suppressing a smile. "Reiss, do these women have hostage value?"

"Do these…?" Reiss seemed to have lost the use of his voice. He shook his head, fluttered his hands at the ends of his arms, and then hurried over to take the shredded remains of the fan from the matron's fingers.

"We'll look into that later," said Fanning with a sigh. "For now, put them up top. Build a fort around them using books, it might stop a few bullets."

"What have you done?" squeaked Reiss.

"If we do have to jump, those curtains will have to serve as parachutes," continued the admiral. "I have no desire to tour the city at two hundred miles per hour."

"… Just like the dream," Venera was muttering, her eyes wide and fixed on nothing.

"What have you done!" Reiss's anger had caught like a reluctant engine. He reared back, seeming to grow an inch, and his birthmark flushed deep red. "Twenty years I've been here, serving my country loyally. Letters I've penned to the pilot, all this time—'Gehellen is a natural ally to Slipstream, we should increase trade connections'—slowly gaining these people's confidence and trust. Why, when I arrived they thought everyone outside of Candesce's light was a hopeless barbarian! It took two years just to set up my first cocktail party. And now you come sailing in here with a fleet of ships armed to the teeth, blow a hole in the palace wall and you ask me whether the dowager baroness of Cordia might make a good hostage?" He grabbed his hair and yanked it.

Venera shifted her aim and raised an eyebrow at her husband. Fanning pursed his lips and waggled a finger at her.

"Ambassador, if I even suspect that you led us in here in order to prevent us from escaping, I will shoot you myself," said Fanning quietly. Behind him, Travis was leading the matron and her cowering friend up the wrought-iron steps to the gallery.

"Admiral, I am loyal to Slipstream," raged Reiss. "Are you?"

"Unless I complete my mission, there will be no Slipstream," Fanning snapped. These words seemed to penetrate Reiss's fury. He crossed his arms and turned away.

"So, we may have to jump," said the admiral. He strolled over to the glittering windows. "We'd best line up our trajectory, then."

Venera jammed her pistol into the silk sash of her outfit. "You were going to tell me what led up to this," she said to Aubri. Behind her the air was assaulted by the sound of shattering glass as someone knocked out some windowpanes.

Aubri described how they had been followed by what turned out to be one of Dentius's pirates, and then had encountered the man himself. Venera's eyes widened at the mention of the name; Hayden could see muscles tightening under the scar on her jaw.

She didn't hide her disappointment when Hayden told of just missing Dentius's neck with his sword. "You'll have to do better than that next time, Griffin!"

"Aubri saw an open window and dived for it," he continued. "They chased us through the building—we were just a few feet ahead of them at one point." In the pandemonium the building's residents had swarmed out of their rooms, "And we thought we were done for. But they started throwing furniture and cutlery back at the police! They made enough chaos that we were able to get away."

Aubri shrugged. "I guess the people don't like their authorities very much."

"Well," said Venera with a shrug, "if they're deliberately kept without gravity then why would they? Ugh, I don't like the image you're conjuring—like a nest of bugs."

The image was indeed apt, Hayden thought. The residents had stuck out long and warped limbs, had thrown chamber pots and boxes, and cheered when Hayden and Aubri made it out a window on the far side of the place. "This put us in a cavity made by six or seven jammed-together buildings; the police bikes couldn't get in so we were able to jump to another building and escape into a crowded marketplace. From the market we made it back to the library and my bike."

"We knew the reception here was supposed to run into the evening," added Aubri, "and we couldn't get back to the docks because the police were blocking that direction."

"Did you at least do the charting I asked for while you were out?" asked Venera. Both Hayden and Aubri glared at her. "What?"

"The sky's packed with bikes," said an officer who'd stuck his head out the broken window. His hair was all tangled and his eyes were watering from the force of the wind. "They'll pick us off with no problem at all if we jump."

"Please, we have to negotiate!" Reiss was clasping his hands together in distress. "Give them the information they need, Admiral, and we stand a chance of getting home again."

"Unacceptable." Fanning was staring out the window. He grabbed the man next to him and pointed at something. "Besides," he said, "there may be another way."

He ran over to the downed curtains and crouched atop them, gathering a handful and staring around at the other furnishings of the room. "Colors! I need the right color combination! And I need a man who knows semaphore like his own speech."

Travis leaned over the railing and waved. "I'm your man. What have you got in mind?"

"I can see several of our ships from here—the docks aren't that far away. There's people filing off them now, but I can't tell how many have disembarked. We need to get their attention and signal them. Are you up for it?"

"I'll need a bigger opening than that." Travis strode to the stairs, drawing his pistol. The gallery crossed the windows; methodically, Travis shot the panes out, showering leather armchairs and ancient side tables with glass. The wind from the palace's rotation tore at the leftover edges, growling and hissing like some monster trying to get in.

"Slipstreamers!" The voice came from the main hallway, beyond the barricade of stout tables and bookshelves that Fanning's officers were completing. "This doesn't have to end in bloodshed! You know the information we're after. It's ours by right, just as Leaf's Choir is ours. Give it up and I promise you'll be unharmed. You'll be escorted to the border and freed, along with your ships."

"You see," exclaimed Reiss. "Admiral, these are civilized people. They'll keep their word."

"Civilized people don't lay traps for visitors," said the admiral. "But tell him we're seriously considering his offer. It'll slow them down, and give you something to do." He turned to the others. "I want a salvo out that window. The sound has to carry to the ships, so every available man put his pistol outside."

They began firing, while Travis stood on the gallery overhead, waving makeshift flags as the wind tried to pull him out of the building. Meanwhile Reiss stood by the barricaded door and stammered out a wonderful string of vague promises and apologies; even Fanning had to smile at his tortuous negotiating style. "The man could buy us an hour at this rate," he said.

"Sir, somethings happening at the docks." Fanning ran back to the window. "Everybody quiet! Listen." Travis stood stock-still, his hair fluttering in me wind. Faintly, through the constant roar of the air, Hayden could hear a distant, irregular pop-popping sound.

"Gunfire! And some sort of commotion by the ships. I think they're trying to cast off."

At that moment the dowager baroness of Cordia stood up and shrieked, "It's a trick! They're just trying to buy time, you dolts. You're letting them get away."

Venera spun and fired. The baroness fell back with a cry. Then the main door's barricade shuddered under an explosion that knocked paintings off the walls and books out of the shelves. The heavy tables that made up the barricade stepped forward several feet, knocking some of the defenders aside in a spray of smoke and splinters.

Fanning leveled his pistol and fired into the cloud. "Shore that up! "The Gehellens had misjudged the amount of powder it would take to blow the barricade, but next time they were likely to over-compensate. The door was going to open soon no matter what the Slipstreamers did.

"They're moving! The ships are moving!" A cheer went up at this announcement. The door defenders were back on their feet and using up the last of their ammunition to prevent anyone coming through as they shoved the smoking furniture back into the gap. It was too late, though—blades and bullets shot out of the smoke, taking down two of the officers.

Fanning stood on a central table and pointed with his saber. "Cut up those curtains. I want parachutes."

Men were smashing out the remaining panes of glass on the library's lower level. The wind now had free reign and it began sucking up everything—shards of glass, glowering portraits of Gehellen royalty, the buzzing pages of books. Gunfire ripped through both barricades, scattering the men there. Somebody screamed, "They're coming through!"

Suddenly the younger of the two Gehellen women leaped onto the gallery banister, wailing incoherently as she leveled a gun at the people below. The hand of the man left to guard her hung limply through the banister posts. She aimed at something over Hayden's head and fired, the recoil causing her to lose her footing. She fell off the gallery into the chaos of broken furniture and Hayden turned in time to see Travis, clutching his shoulder, stagger into the embrace of the wind and be snatched away by it.

Through the howl of the wind Hayden heard someone yell, "The Tormentor is coming," just as the barricades fell and armed men leapt into the room. Fanning leaped off his table and ran for the windows. "Junior officers first, get ready and line up your jump!" He handed large swatches of torn curtain to the young men then pushed them at the window. That was all Hayden had time to notice before he was faced with a grinning enemy with a sword and had to parry a cut to his throat.

The Gehellens were weak. It took long seconds for the fact to register with Hayden. As he cut and parried he realized that he outmatched his opponent in both strength and speed and that the same was true in the other duels being fought around him. Gravity was a precious commodity here, metered out unwillingly by the upper classes. These soldiers hadn't trained nearly enough in it.

He sent his opponent down with a slice to the ribs and turned to the next one. For a few seconds there was only the narrow world of slash-and-dodge; then someone screamed his name.

Glancing around, he saw Aubri holding one hand out to him.

She stood next to the window with several others; in one hand she clutched a crimson swath of curtain. Hayden cut madly at the man he fought, then dove back to take Aubri's hand. She pulled them both out the window, and the library, the palace, and the royal town of Gehellen swept up and away at awful speed.