Part 12 (1/2)

Hearing such words was about as close as Qiwi Lin Lisolet could come to recapturing the past. Age nine to fourteen had been Qiwi's Lisoletish learning time. It had been a lonely time, but Mom had been right about it. Qiwi had come a long way toward growing up, learning to be alone in the great dark. She had learned about the life-support systems that were her father's specialty, learned the celestial mechanics that made all her mother's constructions possible, and most of all she had learned how much she loved to be around others during their waking times. Both her parents had spent several of those years out of coldsleep, sharing maintenance duty with her and the Watch techs.

Now Mama was dead and Papa was Focused, his soul concentrated down upon one thing: the biological management of ecosystems. But within that Focus, he and she could still communicate. In the years since the ambush, they had been together for Msecs of common Watch. Qiwi had continued to learn from him. And sometimes, when they were deep within the complexity of species stability, sometimes it was like before, in childhood, when Papa would get so trapped in his pa.s.sion for living things that he seemed to forget his daughter was really a person, and they were both swallowed up by wonders greater than themselves.

Qiwi studied the diffs-but mostly she was watching her father. She knew he was very close to finis.h.i.+ng the garbage-spider project, his part of it anyway. Long experience told her that there would be a few moments after that when Ali Lin would be approachable, when his Focus cast about for something new to bind on. Qiwi smiled to herself. And I have the project. And I have the project. It was almost what Reynolt and Tomas wanted from Papa, so diverting him would be possible if she played it just right. It was almost what Reynolt and Tomas wanted from Papa, so diverting him would be possible if she played it just right.

There.Ali Lin sighed, gazing contentedly on the branches and leaves around them. Qiwi had maybe fifty seconds. She slipped downward from her branch, holding her position with the tip of her foot. She snagged the bonsai bubble she had smuggled in, and returned to her father. ”Remember these, Papa? Really, really small parks?”

Papa didn't ignore her words. He turned toward her as quickly as a normal person, and his eyes widened when he caught sight of the clear plastic sphere. ”Yes! Except for light, a completely closed ecology.”

Qiwi floated the empty bubble into his hands. Bonsai bubbles were a commonplace in the confines of a ramscoop under way. They existed in all levels of sophistication, from lumps of moss up to things almost as complex as this temp's park. And-”This is a little smaller than the problems we've been working on. I'm not sure your solutions would work here.”

Appeals to pride had often worked on the old Ali, almost as often as appeals to love. Now you had to catch Papa at just the right instant. He squinted at the bubble, seemed to feel the dimensions with his hands. ”No, no! I can do it. My new tricks are very powerful.. . .Would you like a little lake, maybe lipid bound to lie flat?”

Qiwi nodded.

”And those garbage spiders, I can make them smaller and give them colored wings.”

”Yes.” Reynolt would let him spend more effort on the garbage bugs. They were important for more than just the central park. So much had been destroyed in the fighting. Ali's work would allow small-scale life-support modules all through the surviving structures. It was something that would normally take a Qeng Ho specialist team and deep searches of the fleet's databases-but Papa was both Focused and a genius. He could do such design work all by himself, and in just a few Msecs.

Papa just needed a push in the right conceptual direction, something that old prune, Anne Reynolt, could rarely provide. So- Ali Lin was suddenly grinning from ear to ear. ”I bet I can top the Namqem High Treasures. Look, the filtration webs will carry straight across. The shrubs will be standard, maybe a little modified to support your insect diffs.”

”Yes, yes,” said Qiwi. They had a real conversation, several hundred seconds, before her father lapsed into the fierce concentration that would make the ”simple changes” actually doable. The hardest part would be at the bacterial and mitochondrial level, and that was totally beyond Qiwi. She smiled at her father, almost reached out to touch his shoulder. Mama would be proud of them. Papa's methods might even be new-they certainly weren't in any of the obvious places in the historical dbs. Qiwi had guessed that they might allow some very very nice microparks, but this was more than she had hoped for. nice microparks, but this was more than she had hoped for.

The High Treasure bonsais were no bigger than this, thirty centimeters across. Some of them had lived for two hundred years, complete animal/ plant ecosystems-even supporting fake evolution. The method was proprietary and not even the Qeng Ho had been able to purchase all of it. Creating such things with only mission resources would be a miracle. If Papa could do better than that. . . hmm. hmm.Most people, even Tomas, seemed to think that Qiwi had been brought up to be an armsman, following her mother's military career. They didn't understand. The Lisolets were QengHo. QengHo. Fighting came a far second. Sure, she had learned a little about combat. Sure, Mama intended she spend a decade or two learning what to do When All Else Fails. But Trading was what everything came back to. Trading and making a profit. So they had been taken over by the Emergents. But Tomas was a decent person-and he had the hardest job she could imagine. She was doing everything she could to support him, to make what was left of their expeditions survive. Tomas couldn't help that his culture was all screwed up. Fighting came a far second. Sure, she had learned a little about combat. Sure, Mama intended she spend a decade or two learning what to do When All Else Fails. But Trading was what everything came back to. Trading and making a profit. So they had been taken over by the Emergents. But Tomas was a decent person-and he had the hardest job she could imagine. She was doing everything she could to support him, to make what was left of their expeditions survive. Tomas couldn't help that his culture was all screwed up.

And in the end it wouldn't matter that Tomas didn't understand. Qiwi smiled at the empty plastic sphere, imagining what it would be like filled with her father's creation. In civilized places, a top bonsai might sell for the price of an entire stars.h.i.+p. Here? Well, Qiwi might make these on the side. After all, it was a frivolity, something that Tomas probably couldn't justify to himself. Tomas had banned h.o.a.rding and favor-trading. Uh-oh.Maybe I'll have to work around him for a while. Uh-oh.Maybe I'll have to work around him for a while. It was much easier to get permission afterward. In the end, she figured the Qeng Ho would change Tomas's people far more than the reverse. It was much easier to get permission afterward. In the end, she figured the Qeng Ho would change Tomas's people far more than the reverse.

She was just starting a new diffs sequence when there was a ripping sound from below, the source hidden by the lower foliage. For a second, Qiwi didn't recognize the sound. The floor access hatch. The floor access hatch. That was for construction only. Opening it would tear the moss layer. d.a.m.n. That was for construction only. Opening it would tear the moss layer. d.a.m.n.

Qiwi swung out from their little nest, and moved quietly downward, careful not to crack branches or cast a shadow on the bottom moss. Breaking in while the park was officially closed was only an annoyance-heck, it was the sort of thing she would do if she felt like it. But that floor hatch was not supposed to be opened. It spoiled the park's illusion, and it damaged the turf. What sort of jacka.s.s would do something like that-especially considering how seriously Emergents took official rules and regulations?

Qiwi hovered just above the bottommost canopy of leaves. In a second the intruder would be in view, but she could already hear him. It was Ritser Brughel. The Vice-Podmaster proceeded across the moss, cursing and whacking at something in the bushes. The guy was a real sewer-mouth. Qiwi was an avid student of such language, and she had listened to him before. Brughel might be the number-two boss man of the Emergent expedition-but he was also a one-man proof that Emergent leaders could be b.u.ms. Tomas seemed to realize the fellow was a bad actor; he'd put the Vice Podmaster's quarters off the rockpile, on the old Invisible Hand. Invisible Hand. And Brughel's Watch schedule was the same as much of the regular crew. While poor Tomas aged year after year to keep the mission safe, Brughel was out of coldsleep only 10Msec in every 40. So Qiwi didn't know him very well-but what she knew she loathed. And Brughel's Watch schedule was the same as much of the regular crew. While poor Tomas aged year after year to keep the mission safe, Brughel was out of coldsleep only 10Msec in every 40. So Qiwi didn't know him very well-but what she knew she loathed. If this jerk could be trusted to pull his ownweight, Tomas wouldn't be burning his lifetime away for us. If this jerk could be trusted to pull his ownweight, Tomas wouldn't be burning his lifetime away for us. She listened in silence for a moment more. She listened in silence for a moment more. Neat stuff. Neat stuff. But there was an undercurrent to it she didn't hear in most folk's obscenities, like the fellow meant what he was saying literally. But there was an undercurrent to it she didn't hear in most folk's obscenities, like the fellow meant what he was saying literally.

Qiwi pushed loudly between the branches, holding herself so that she stood half a meter in the air-about eye-to-eye with the Emergent. ”The park is closed for maintenance, Podmaster.”

Brughel gave a tiny flinch of surprise. For a second he was silent, his pale pink skin darkening in the most comical way. ”You insolent little. . . so what are you you doing here?” doing here?”

”I'm doing the maintenance.” Well, that was at least cousin to the truth. Now counterattack: ”And what are you doing here?”

Brughel's face got even darker. He pulled himself upward, his head ten centimeters above Qiwi's. Now his feet floated on air, too. ”Sc.u.m have no business questioning me.” He was carrying that silly steel baton. It was a plain metal dowel incised here and there with dark-stained dings. He braced himself with one hand and swung the baton through a glittering arc that splintered the sapling beside Qiwi's head.

Now Qiwi was getting angry, too. She grabbed one of the lower branches, hoisted herself so that she and Brughel were eye-to-eye once more. ”That's vandalism, not an explanation.” She knew that Tomas had the park monitored-and vandalism was at least the crime for Emergents that it was for Qeng Ho.

The Podmaster was so angry that he had trouble talking. ”You're the vandals. This park was beautiful, more than I thought sc.u.m could ever make. But now you're sabotaging it. I was in here yesterday-you've infected it with vermin.” He swung the metal dowel again, the blow dislodging a garbage web that was hidden in the branches. The web creatures floated off in all directions, silken glides streaming behind them. Brughel poked at the web, shaking beetle casings and dead leaves and miscellaneous detritus into a cloud around them. ”See? What else are you poisoning?” He leaned close, looking down at her from above.

For a moment Qiwi just stared, uncomprehending. He couldn't possibly mean what he was saying. How could anyone be so ignorant? But remember,he's a Chump. But remember,he's a Chump. She pulled herself high enough to look down at Brughel, and shouted into his face. ”It's a zero-gee park, for G.o.d's sake! What do you think keeps the air clean of floating c.r.a.p? The garbage bugs have always been here. . .though maybe they're a little overworked just now.” She hadn't meant it quite the way it came out, but now she looked the Podmaster up and down as though she had one particularly large piece of garbage in mind. She pulled herself high enough to look down at Brughel, and shouted into his face. ”It's a zero-gee park, for G.o.d's sake! What do you think keeps the air clean of floating c.r.a.p? The garbage bugs have always been here. . .though maybe they're a little overworked just now.” She hadn't meant it quite the way it came out, but now she looked the Podmaster up and down as though she had one particularly large piece of garbage in mind.

They were above the lower leaf canopies now. From the corner of her eye, Qiwi could see Papa. The sky was limitless blue, guarded by an occasional branch. She could feel the fake sunlight hot on the back of her head. If they played a few more rounds of one-up-one-up, they'd be banging their heads on plastic. Qiwi started laughing.

And now Brughel was silent, just staring at her. He slapped his steel baton into his palm again and again. There were rumors about those dark stains in the metal; it was obvious what Ritser Brughel wanted people to think they were. But the guy just didn't carry himself like a fighter. And when he swung that baton, it was as though he had never considered the possibility that there might be targets that could fight back. Just now, his only hold-on was the toe of one boot hooked between branches. Qiwi braced herself un.o.btrusively and smiled her most insolent smile.

Brughel was motionless for a second. His gaze flicked to either side of her. And then without another word he pushed off, floundered for a moment, found a branch, and dived for the bottom-level hatch.

Qiwi floated silent, the strangest feelings chasing up her body, down her arms. For a moment she couldn't identify them. But the park. . .how wonderful it was with Ritser Brughel gone! She could hear the little buzzing sounds and the b.u.t.terflies, where a moment before all her attention had tunneled down on the Podmaster's anger. And now she recognized the tingling in her arms, and the racing of her heart: rage and fear.

Qiwi Lin Lisolet had teased and enraged her share of people. It had been almost her hobby in pre-Flight. Mama said it was mind-hidden anger at the thought of being alone between the stars. Maybe. But it had also been fun. This was different.

She turned back toward her father's nest in the trees. And plenty of people had been angry with her over the years. Back in innocent times, Ezr Vinh used to get near apoplectic. Poor Ezr, I wish Poor Ezr, I wish . . .But this today had been different. She had seen the difference in Ritser Brughel's eyes. The man had really wanted to kill her, had teetered on the edge of trying. And probably the only thing that stopped him was the thought that Tomas would know. But if Brughel could ever get her alone, unseen by the security monitors . . . . . .But this today had been different. She had seen the difference in Ritser Brughel's eyes. The man had really wanted to kill her, had teetered on the edge of trying. And probably the only thing that stopped him was the thought that Tomas would know. But if Brughel could ever get her alone, unseen by the security monitors . . .

Qiwi's hands were shaking by the time she reached Ali Lin. Papa. She wanted so much to be held, to have him soothe the shaking. Ali Lin wasn't even looking at her. Papa had been Focused for several years now, but Qiwi could remember the times before so well. Before. . .Papa would have rushed out of the trees at the first sound of argument below. He would have put himself between Qiwi and Brughel, steel club or no. Now. . .Qiwi didn't remember much of the last few moments except for Ritser Brughel. But there were fragments: Ali had sat unmoved among his displays and a.n.a.lytics. He had heard the argument, even glanced their way when the shouting became loud and close. His look had been impatient, a ”don't-distract-me” dismissal.

Qiwi reached out a still-shaking hand to touch his shoulder. He shrugged the way you might shoo off a pesky bug. In some ways Papa still lived, but in others he seemed more dead than Mama. Tomas said that Focus could be reversed. But Tomas needed Papa and the other Focused the way they were now. Besides, Tomas had been raised an Emergent. They used Focus to make people into property. They were proud proud of doing so. Qiwi knew that there were plenty of Qeng Ho survivors who considered all the talk of ”reversal of Focus” to be a lie. So far, not a single Focused person had been reversed. of doing so. Qiwi knew that there were plenty of Qeng Ho survivors who considered all the talk of ”reversal of Focus” to be a lie. So far, not a single Focused person had been reversed. Tomas wouldn't lie about something so important. Tomas wouldn't lie about something so important.

And maybe if she and Papa did well enough, she could get him back the sooner. For this wasn't a death that went on forever. She slipped into her seat beside him and resumed looking at the new diffs. The processors had given her the beginning of results while she was off trading insults with Ritser Brughel.

Papa would be pleased.

Nau still met with the Fleet Management Committee every Msec or so. Of course, just who attended changed substantially from Watch to Watch. Ezr Vinh was present today; it would be very interesting to see the boy's reaction to the surprise he had planned. And Ritser Brughel was attending, so he had asked Qiwi to stay away. Nau smiled to himself. d.a.m.n, I neverguessed how thoroughly she could humiliate the man. d.a.m.n, I neverguessed how thoroughly she could humiliate the man.

Nau had combined the committee with his own Emergent staff meetings and called them ”Watch-manager” meetings. The point was always that whatever their old differences, they were all in this together now and survival could only come through cooperation. The meetings were not as meaningful as Nau's private consults with Anne Reynolt or his work with Ritser and the security people. Those Those often occurred between the regular Watches. Still, it wasn't a lie to say that important work was done at these per-Msec meetings. Nau flicked his hand at the agenda. ”So. Our last item: Anne Reynolt's expedition to the sun. Anne?” often occurred between the regular Watches. Still, it wasn't a lie to say that important work was done at these per-Msec meetings. Nau flicked his hand at the agenda. ”So. Our last item: Anne Reynolt's expedition to the sun. Anne?”

Anne didn't smile as she corrected him. ”The astrophysicists' report, Podmaster. But first, I have a complaint. We need at least one unFocused specialist in this area. You know how hard it is to judge technical results. . . .”

Nau sighed. She had been after him about this in private, too. ”Anne, we don't have the resources. We have just three surviving specialists in this area.” And they were all zipheads.

”I still need a reviewer with common sense.” She shrugged. ”Very well. Per your direction, we have run two of the astrophysicists on a continuous Watch since before the Relight. Keep in mind, they've had five years to think about this report.” Reynolt waved at the air, and they were looking out on a modified Qeng Ho taxi. Auxiliary fuel tanks were strapped on every side, and the front was a forest of sensor gear. A silver s.h.i.+eld-sail was propped on a rickety framework from one side of the craft. ”Right before the Relight, Doctors Li and Wen flew this vehicle into low orbit around OnOff.” A second window showed the descent path, and a final orbit scarcely five hundred kilometers above the surface of the OnOff star. ”By keeping the sail properly oriented, they safely flew at that alt.i.tude for more than a day.”

Actually it was Jau Xin's pilot-zipheads who had done the flying. Nau nodded at Xin. ”That was good work, Pilot Manager.”

Xin grinned. ”Thank you, sir. Something to tell my children about.”

Reynolt ignored the comment. She popped up multiple windows, showing low-alt.i.tude views in various spectral regimes. ”We've had a hard time with the a.n.a.lysis right from the beginning.”

They could hear the recorded voices of the two zipheads now. Li was Emergent-bred, but the other voice spoke in a Qeng Ho dialect. That must be Wen: ”We've always known OnOff has the ma.s.s and density of a normal G star. Now we can make high-resolution maps of the interior temperatures and dens-” Dr. Li b.u.t.ted in with the typical urgency of a ziphead, ”-but we need more microsats.. . .Resources be d.a.m.ned. We need two hundred at least, right through the time of Relighting.”

Reynolt paused the audio. ”We got them one hundred microsats.” More windows popped up, Li and Wen back at Hammerfest after the Relight, arguing and arguing. Reynolt's reports were often like this, a barrage of pictures and tables and sound bites.

Wen was talking again. He sounded tired. ”Even in Off-state, the central densities were typical of a G star, yet there was no collapse. The surface turbulence is barely ten thousand kilometers deep. How? How? How?”

Li: ”And after Relight, the deep internal structure looks still the same.”

”We can't know for sure; we can't get close.”

”No, it looks perfectly typical now. We have models. . . .”