Chaos Space - Marianne de Pierres [32]
‘As you would know, signor, biozoons can calibrate their own shift, unlike ordinary craft which rely on the Station systems. Shifting was not an issue. Being damaged before we could shift was. Dowlspace was chaotic.’
He stared at her. ‘I know a little of your culture, Baronessa. Women are not educated in the functional aspects of space vehicles.’
‘I have degrees in Latino Studies, Orion Literature and Genera. The rest I learned by choice and . . . discreetly.’
Landhurst looked at her with more interest. ‘Tell me about the Saqr.’
Mira attempted to put her tired thoughts into order. Why did he want so many details? ‘They are tardigrades that have been adapted for land living.’ She returned his intent look. ‘They feed on fluids, Stationmaster. Body fluids. What more would you know about them?’
‘Who brought them to your planet?’
‘No one is sure. I understand your need for information but what I have told you is the truth. I am neither loco nor misguided.’
‘You are travelling with known mercenaries. What would you call that?’
‘They have told me that our Principe employed them. Perhaps he sensed danger for his people. Our own military force is . . . was limited. The mercenaries lost many of their own but they kept a town of people alive. I judge on what I see, not on what I am told. Our travelling together is a coincidence based on mutual survival.’
Landhurst’s expression hardened. ‘I run one of the busiest shift-stations in Orion, Baronessa. I have heard every story imaginable. I need to be convinced that yours is authentic before I can provide you with the provisions you request and allow you to use our emergency ‘cast. And, frankly, I don’t know that I am.’
Besieged by tiredness, Mira found herself no longer caring about discretion or manners. ‘My sorella is dead. While you search for your authenticity the last of my people are being hunted to death. I have a child there, Master Landhurst. My child.’
He wavered at that. ‘You have left your child behind?’ he asked.
She didn’t attempt to hide her wretchedness. ‘I had no choice.’
Landhurst watched her for a long moment. ‘Very well, Baronessa. You may farcast on our emergency line and I will charge your consumables to OLOSS’s refugee fund. But if it turns out that things are not how you say they are then I have my own methods of redress. I run a profitable business. I do not hold this position because of my compassionate nature.’
‘I have found that compassion is a rare attribute, Master Landhurst,’ said Mira. ‘But decency will do.’
At that, he had the grace to blush.
When Mira had composed and sent her message to OLOSS, she returned to Insignia, sinking gratefully into the comfort of the Primo vein.
Where are the others?
I cannot locate them precisely but they left shortly after you.
Mira felt a mixture of relief and irritation. She was alone on Insignia—yet they would need to leave as soon as the supplies were loaded. The stationmaster has agreed to provide our requisitions.
Yes. Station Intel has contacted me.
How long before we can shift?
Two station hours if the loading is efficient.
Place us in the shift queue. Please. Mira entertained the idea of leaving without the mercenaries. The likelihood that they would ever meet again seemed slim. And yet they could corroborate her story. If OLOSS were as sceptical as Stationmaster Landhurst she might need their support.
Another wave of fatigue rolled over her.
I need to sleep for a few minutes. She relaxed back into the vein and felt the welcome relief as it moulded to her body. Insignia’s sensors skittered over her body like light, loving fingers soothing away the ever-present nausea. She felt safe, safe, safe until. . .
A stabbing sensation jolted her awake. The pain was in her stomach.
Insignia?
Humanesques are trying to enter my organ space.
Your compatible areas?
No.
What humanesques? Rast?
I allowed access to my absorption area for amino replenishment. Several humanesques accompanied the automon loaders. That is not uncommon when taking aboard provisions.