Dark Space - Marianne de Pierres [82]
Cass rocked her ‘bino in time with the sway of the barge. ‘Never had to queue for anything before, eh, Baronessa?’
When the barge slowed and stopped Cass climbed out ahead of Mira.
Catchut was waiting for them in a space half-filled with barges and trucks. ‘We need your TerV.’
Cass gave him a steady look, one hand on her hip, the other still nursing her ‘bino. ‘Who wants it?’ Innis and Marrat joined them—Kristo stayed with the rifle.
‘Rast,’ said Catchut, as if that should explain everything.
Cass smiled suddenly. ‘Perhaps I’d better talk to Rast, then.’ She turned to the others. ‘Innis, you and Marrat stay with the barge. Don’t let anyone take it anywhere. Get the rifle down. Kristo, see if you can find some food for us. Mira, bring Vito and come with me.’
‘Cass—’ Innis began. But she had already walked away.
Mira followed her and Catchut down a wide dirt road lined with gumes on either side and across a dusty piazza to a large flat-topped catoplasma structure that looked like a public-utility building—the town salon, perhaps. As they stepped inside the coldlock, the recycled air made her shiver. At least some places were still cooled. She had never spent such a prolonged period outside and her body had felt constantly overheated and coated in a layer of dirt and sweat. Her fellala could not be working well. Or was it simply exhaustion that made her legs tremble with the effort of the walk?
Vito mewled with hunger. She jiggled him tiredly.
‘Here,’ said Cass. She held out her own infant. ‘Take Chanee while I feed Vito.’
Mira suddenly realised she had not even known Cass’s ‘bino’s name.
With Vito still suckling at her breast, Cass walked calmly into the large middle room. One corner of it was furnished with stools and a hand-tooled metal table, the rest was empty. The walls were covered with shimmer maps of mine geography. At one end of the table sat an ‘esque with a battered combat hood half-pulled over stark white hair. Her pale face was so lean and hollow that it seemed as if the flesh barely covered the bone. Across her cheekbones she bore the red markings of a tattoo.
‘Rast,’ Catchut said, with obvious deference.
Rast glanced up in irritation from a thin sheet of film. ‘Don’t—’ She broke off her sentence in mild surprise. ‘Well, if it isn’t Cass Mulravey—I might have known you’d survive.’
Cass sat down, detaching Vito from her breast and settling him against her shoulder. ‘Loisa is lost to the ginkos.’
Rast gave Catchut a dismissive nod before she replied. As he left the room her gaze settled on Mira. Her stare was an assault of evaluation and immediate censure. ‘I know. Who’s this?’
Mira forced herself to speak up. ‘Mira Fedor. I am trying to get back to Pell. The signorina helped me out of Loisa.’
‘Actually, she helped us. Picked up on the problem with the barge’s motor. Otherwise we’d be ginko shit by now,’ said Cass.
‘Fedor, eh? Not the Pilot family?’ Rast tapped her fingers on the table. Half of one—a little one—was missing.
Mira nodded.
‘Heard about them. What does that make you? A princess or somethin’?’
‘My title is Baronessa.’
‘Well, things are bad at Pell, pilot-Baronessa. The bears have either overrun the place or destroyed it.’
Mira’s stomach lurched at the blunt news. ‘They are called Saqr.’
Rast gave her a curious look. ‘You know about them?’
‘A little. I am Studium-educated.’
‘You and I better have a chat, then. Maybe you know something I don’t. Or it may be that you don’t.’ Her lips curved in a cold, sneering smile that caused Mira to stiffen.
‘What do they want?’ asked Cass.
‘Pretty damn obvious what they want.’ Rast’s eyes narrowed in a way that made her look less womanly. ‘Your world is what they want. Why they want it? Aaah, well, you’d have to ask Franco Pellegrini that.’ She took a slightly ragged breath. ‘But he’s dead.’
‘Dead.’ Cass repeated the word tonelessly.
Dead. The word