

   Fragment from "The Song of Camber and S'Reeth"




                                                                          
 
                  Copyright 1994 by Daniel Keys Moran.
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DESCRIPTION: A fragment of the novel, "The Winding Way Home".

        


      Fragment from "The Song of Camber and S'Reeth"
            A TALE OF THE CONTINUING TIME


 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    S'Reeth bar Ye'Huta awoke to the certainty that he was on the surface of a
planet.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The pull was strong -- full Santha gravity, and a bit. There was no
thrumming transmitted up through the hard surface he lay on; he was not in a
ship under acceleration. The gravity was perfect, evenly distributed across
him, not fluctuating in the slightest; he was not in pull, in any sort of
artificial gravity. His inertial sense was slightly disoriented, but not so
disoriented that he could not have told instantly if gravity were being
provided by spin; S'Reeth could have told how large the diameter of the
object being spun, just from the gravity and coriolis as reported by his
inertial sense.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    He was on the surface of a planet.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    That could mean many things, all bad: he hadn't taken himself downside.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    He tried to remember what he'd been doing last -- gaming, upside, and a
slissi dealer who'd tried to cheat him at the soro table. He wondered idly
if he'd killed the slissi; he didn't remember anything after the house
stunners had gone off.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    His time sense sucked death pressure. It said he'd been out for just under
an hour, standard; but that meant nothing. House security had surely dropped
him in a bubble prior to sending him downside --
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    His top hands were snaked together in front of him, and something tight
hung on around his bottom left wrist.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    He cleared his eyes and sat up on his prison cot to look at the human who
sat across the cold cell from him, radiating heat out of his face.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "Your file says you're a pilot."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The human was large by K'Ailla standards -- but S'Reeth had been
off-Santha for a long time, even for one of the long-lived K'Aillae.
He had nearly broken himself of the habit, common to K'Aillae, of trying to
picture humans as oversized K'Aillae without enough fur. Despite their use of
Zaradin DNA, despite looking more like K'Aillae than any other species had a
right to, humans were thoroughly alien creatures, and the better S'Reeth got
to know them the better he appreciated the fact.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The human was not large by human standards, as S'Reeth had come to
understand them; only average sized. Black haired and black eyed, Kabhyr
eyes without internal structure, pupils and such. Pale skin for a human,
those parts of the skin that showed -- which meant that the parts that did
not show were probably even paler. Many humans, and most of the pale ones,
darkened under sunlight.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The man wore trader blacks; they proclaimed his occupation like a badge.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The cell walls were mostly gray, with odd streaks of vivert and blue --
colors slissi could not see. To a slissi the walls would have looked plain
gray.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    To the human S'reeth said, "Yeah. I'm a pilot."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The man nodded. "I need one. You sign with me, I'll pay your fine and get
you out of here. One year's service, Terran, from date of contract. Full
pilot's pay and if you jump ship I post bounty on you with the SpaceFarer's
Collective."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    S'Reeth scratched around his eyes with his snaked hands, thinking about
it. "Pay my fine. I guess that means the slissi lived."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The human shook his head. "I've no idea what you're in for; my agent
downside found you for me.... You tried to kill a slissi? Perhaps you
succeeded. The fine is quite large."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    Quite large -- from the style of the human's blacks that might mean
anything. Trader blacks, but the blacks themselves, made of layered kinfin
silk, spoke of money. Wealthy then, or else thoroughly vain, or both -- and
young, too, if S'Reeth was the judge of human age that he fancied himself.
Past a certain point they all took on a similar cast, around their
twenty-fifth or thirtieth year, but this human looked younger than that.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "Tried to kill him," S'Reeth agreed. "Bastard tried to cheat me. Dealer
upside at the Sorsen Casino."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "That's what they do in slissi casinos," the young human observed.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "Sure," S'Reeth sneered. "To humans. K'aillae don't get treated that
way."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "Reputable k'aillae do not," the human conceded. "This does not cover your
case. You are S'Reeth bar K'Ailli Ye'Huta, nihi Dome, a war dog and an
outcast. You fought at Merenth in '983, at Corridan in '991, and at
k'kchostqua in '01. You wear no paint, no bar."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    S'Reeth looked him over with something approaching monkey curiosity.
"You've been thorough. Is this combat duty?"
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "Might be."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "The Collective couldn't find you another pilot with combat experience?
One who wasn't in a prison bubble?" Curiosity won through. "How long was I
inside?"
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "What day did they put you in?"
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    S'Reeth converted into the human calendar. "Last day I remember is Fall
44."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The human blinked. "What year?"
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The fur in the small of S'Reeth's back prickled. "'04."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The human's thoroughly expressionless features actually chilled a touch.
"Today is Summer 13, 3020."

 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "By Ifahad," S'Reeth swore, voice soft. He stared at the snakes on his top
hands. "Weren't they ever going to let me out?"
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The human had called up the record of S'Reeth's conviction. The holo hung
in mid-air between them. The human could read, beyond that, could read
tradetalk; S'Reeth was impressed. Most humans couldn't even read Tierra,
even if they did speak half a dozen languages via tap. "It says you killed
three slissi. The dealer and two guards who came to aid him."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "Good," S'Reeth snarled, but without any real wind behind it.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The human waved the holo off. "No," he said finally. "I don't think they
were ever going to let you out. The fine is...quite large."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "You must be desperate."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The human shrugged. "Not your concern, is it? Do you want the job or not?"
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "Details?" S'Reeth asked hopelessly. He wouldn't have given them out to
someone in his skin --
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The human shook his head. "Can't give them to you until you're under
contract. One year, SpaceFarer contract, possible combat. Combat pay
retroactive to sign on, if so. SpaceFarer guidelines regarding definition of
combat, Collective mediation in the event of dispute as to whether combat
took place." The human regarded him a moment longer, and then said more than
he had to. "It's not a suicide job, and it's not terribly likely to involve
combat on your part. But a Platformer Caravan pulled through here six weeks
ago. They saw action coming out of the Rift, and they were hurting. Every
qualified pilot inSystem got snapped up."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "And you don't trust your MI to take you on to the next system?" What sort
of death trap was the man spacing if he didn't trust his machine
intelligence with something that simple? All sorts of things sucked death
pressure before the computers went -- molar circuitry outlasted thrusters,
the pull plates, laser cannon, most navigational devices --
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "I have work awaiting for me at Sol. I need to be there in two weeks."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "Two weeks --" S'Reeth bar Ye'Huta stumbled over the obvious implications:
"You want me to pilot a lightship!"
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The man said, "I need a telepath, S'Reeth. And I need one today."


&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    S'Reeth faced the contract corder that had sprouted up in the corner of
his cell, and said, "I, S'Reeth bar K'Ailli Ye'Huta, of my own wind, give
service to --" He glanced at the human.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "Cold Blood, Inc."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    S'Reeth stared at him, and the human nodded. Oh, Ifahad, he was young.
S'Reeth scowled in displeasure and said, "-- give service to Cold Blood,
Inc., for the period of one year Terran, under the standard SpaceFarer
pilot's contract, combat contingency clause, on this day of Summer 13, 3020,
contract void in event Cold Blood, Inc., does not pay all fines levied
against me by the slissi government before the end of the day. Public
encryption key is," and he took a breath and recited in Domenii, from
memory, his 1,728 digit public key. He had to say it in Domenii; Tierra
lacked the ability to scale the harmonics correctly.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    It took him nearly three minutes to recite the key. When he was done the
corder said, "Witnessed and sealed. Registering with Collective Dictionary
onplanet...registered. Second party, please step before the corder and state
your name, company, and public key."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The human stepped forward. "I, Camber Tremodian, principal in the limited
partnership Cold Blood, Inc., witness and approve this contract on behalf of
Cold Blood, Inc. My public key is on file with the Collective."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "The contract has been generated. Would you care to leave skin samples as
proof of individuality?"
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    S'Reeth simply snorted; if they'd done nothing else while they'd had their
claws on him, the slissi had sampled him.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    The human, dressed head to foot in trader blacks that were more than half
designed to minimize skin exposure, said drily, "I hardly think so."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "The contract is filed." The doorfield, behind the human -- behind
Camber -- fragmented. "You are free to go. The Banding at
sus'kull'kussessen recommends that the k'ailla individual S'Reeth bar
Ye'Huta refrain from further travel to any of the Banding's holdings."
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    "A vast pleasure it'll be, too," S'Reeth snarled. To his new employer, he
said, "Let's get out of here."


