The City Who Fought
- Автор: Маккефри Энн, Стирлинг Стивен Майкл
- Серия: brainship #4
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «The City Who Fought». Краткое содержание книги:
Simeon's love of wargaming would find unexpected uses when the brutal Kolnari attack the nearby colony planet, Bethel. Sheltering the colony's refugee's brought the city an invitation to serious trouble with Kolnari pirates.
"Wait the Great Lord's pleasure, scumvermin," the amplified voice of the Kolnar said.
Oh-oh, Channa thought, with a sinking stomach. That sounds bad. She and Amos had discussed what to do under interrogation, but she had doubts about his ability to keep control of his temper.
As for me, I'll live through what I have to. And I'll dance on their graves, she thought grimly. She had been one of the first to take the new virus.
"Buck up, kid," Simeon's voice whispered in her inner ear. It had the odd gravelly tone he adopted in tense moments. "Remember, I've got no fixed sensors in there, so the implants will have to do. I'm with you, and I'll give a running translation of anything the pirates say in their jabber. Okay? And from the structure of their language, the phrase they just used means something like 'front and center.' "
"Got it," she subvocalized.
They jumped back against the wall smartly when a Kolnari bossman came through, looking as if he would rather walk over them. For a moment, Channa thought it was Belazir, and then caught the few subtle differences which told her he was not. Simeon's voice confirmed it. Serig followed, a minute later. They both cast their eyes down, to avoid showing the raw desire to kill they shared.
"Now, scumvermin," the guard said.
"Ohhhhh, am I getting sick of hearing that word," Channa subspoke.
"You and me and Simeon-Amos both," Simeon agreed. The Bethelite had the button in his ear, but he hadn't been able to train a sub vocal level that was inaudible. The Kolnari didn't hear all that well at the margins of audibility and had no reason to use sensitive hearing devices.
Belazir had set up his command post beneath a huge oak tree. He lolled at his ease on a reclining chair, a wreath of fresh wildflowers adorned his hair, dappled shade moving on his sleek skin and the priceless silks of his clothing. On one side of him was a mobile console and a table scattered with notescreens, printouts, small pieces of equipment. Also some artwork which Simeon recognized, garnered from galleries and the museum.
One piece Channa did not remember and the brain could not name, a flamboyant carving in some bone or ivory of a… submarine with fangs? jet-propelled spearfish? Whatever, it had the same air of ruthless speed that a striking hawk might.
"Ah, your eyes light on the tunglor," Belazir said affably. As always, the sheer physical presence of the man struck her like a blow. "From homeworld… Kolnar."
The guard behind them reached out an arm to force them down.
"No, to one knee will do," Belazir said easily. His Standard was better, even in these few days. "Do you wish refreshment?"
He waved to his other side to the table where food and bottles of wine rested, patently supplied by the Perimeter Restaurant. The young waitress was from the Perimeter, too, although there she had worn clothes.
"No, Master and God," Amos and Channa said in meek unison.
Belazir smiled and held out his hand. The waitress put a water-glass tumbler of Mart'an's famous apricot-brandy liqueur into it. He drank it off in ten long swallows and Channa knew a moment's wild hope.
Simeon's voice was sour. "No joy," he sent. "I checked with Chaundra. They metabolize ethanol so fast he'll only be mildly buzzed."
"Well," the pirate said in that voice like a bronze bell that purred. "There is business. The matter of the attack on the Divine Seed of Kolnar."
"He's not too upset, I think," Simeon told them. "Heartbeat absolutely Kolnar-normal, no pupil dilation. Got an idea the victims may have been from one of the other ships. Play it polite-firm."
"Lord and God," Channa said. "The criminals will be found and punished."
Subvocal from Simeon: "You hit his funnybone with that, Happy. He's killing himself laughing inside."
Channa went on. "I've made several general broadcasts calling for obedience, Master and God."
"So you have. I notice, too, that it is always you and not your companion… colleague?"
"Simeon-Amos is-" Channa fell silent as the Kolnari's hand indicated that Simeon-Amos should answer.
"I am the junior, Master and God," Amos said, eyes fixed on the ground.
"Look at me, Simeon-Amos." The stares met for long seconds. Then Belazir gestured again, turning his attention back to Channa. "Well and good. As we expect to hold the station in our fist for some time, these acts of stupidity must cease."
"Lying through his teeth, babe."
"You sent messages desiring audience, Channahap," Belazir went on. He rose, like a black fountain tipped with white gold, the loose sleeves floating back from his arms like wings. He looked down from his near two meters of height. "Continue."
"Master and God," she said, in a tone as empty of any but the formal semantic content as she could make it, "your troops fornicate like-" she paused to search for a word "-rottweilers."
"Big chuckle at that one, Channie." Simeon was furious.
Belazir crossed his arms. "Why does this not seem complimentary?"
Channa looked up at him. "They bite," she said emotionlessly, covering her disgust, "all the time."
"Then the sc-the chosen ones should not resist their fate," Belazir said. "It is our custom when we meet resistance."
"They don't resist!" Channa said sharply, then managed a taut smile. "Should we bite back?"
A rustle went through the line of armored troops behind Belazir and the cluster of officers with feathers and jewels in their hair. The noble silenced them with a toss of his head.
"I would not recommend it," he said sardonically. "The custom to which I refer is that of enjoying the fruits of victory. A most ancient custom, surely, even you must know of it? Make another of your speeches. Outline their duties. A hard, sincere effort to please. Then they shall be caressed as they labor, not savaged."
"Master and God, when you bruise the fruit too much, it goes bad! The problem is that I have a hundred people in sickbay being sewn back together and under medication due to human bites and various other wounds. Initially, there were three hundred sick to begin with, not counting the ones who've been flogged."
"Are they injured?"
No, apart from shaking and crying and waking up with nightmares, she thought. The Kolnari had a whip that did something to the nervous system. "Master and God-" however she tried, she couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of that. "-the problem involves vital work positions which are left empty. This isn't a planet. It doesn't run itself. Everything has to be done without error. Fatigue leads to error, error leads to failure, and failure can lead to death. I cannot do the impossible, order me however you want."
"Now that," he said, "is the wrong tone." Suddenly he was much closer, and took her chin between thumb and forefinger. "Entirely. Do you understand, Channahap?"
"Yes," she murmured, "yes, I understand." Time seemed to slow.
He smiled. "Excellent. However, your remarks, if not the manner in which they were delivered, are reasonable. I shall give orders that my troops be… gentler with their slaves. After you have emphasized the proper attitude toward their duties."
Channa's eyes widened.
He actually laughed this time. "Yes," he assured her, "that, too, is our custom. Those of you that please us or are useful will leave this place on our ships." He watched her absorb this privilege.
"Walk with me," he said, putting a hand under her arm. She jerked slightly at the contact, like the touch of a live conductor.
Amos started to follow. A servo-powered gauntlet closed down on his skull, so gently that it would not have cracked an egg. A duplicate of the one that had crushed his sister's skull. Wind blew through the trees above them, making the leaves move in a dance that contrasted to the stillness of the humans below.