Hidden Empire - Kevin J. Anderson [101]
Old Bram looked like a stuffed scarecrow, wearing layers of vests, jackets, and a tattered cloak over his shoulders. He stood on an ice dock several meters above the smooth water. Jess and Tasia remained close beside him, with Cesca only a step behind.
A boxlike raft floated in the water, made of expensive pressed cellulose. Each plank had been imported from Roamer traders, brought down and assembled here. Much of the cost had been donated by Speaker Okiah and her clan, though Bram insisted he would pay her back. Inside the floating container lay an effigy of Ross Tamblyn, wrapped in the few items of old clothing he had left behind when he and his father had parted ways.
Jess had offered to give the eulogy, but Bram would not hear of it. After invoking the wisdom of the Guiding Star, the old man spoke in a thin voice that echoed across the water. "This is what remains of my son Ross. No wreckage was found of the Blue Sky Mine, heinously destroyed by unknown enemies."
Sinews stood out like ropes along Bram's neck. "Still, we have our memories of Ross, our fond stories, the times we spent together..." His voice dropped, then cracked. "And our guilt for the things we did not do, and which now can never be done.
"Since we have nothing else of my son Ross, we will make do." Bram raised his gaze to the solid sky. "This is our memorial to him."
The other Roamers echoed, "This is our memorial to him."
Jess and Tasia stepped forward, each snapping the end off an air-activated ignitor. They held the bright flames like candles above the sluggish, cold ocean. Bram Tamblyn reached into one of his numerous pockets and withdrew another ignitor, so that their three flames blazed together.
"Ross was my oldest child. His fires burned bright and hot—" Bram's voice quavered. "Yes, Ross was hot indeed. But his light and his life were snuffed out too quickly." In unison, the three tossed their ignitors into the raft, which had been padded with woody icekelp fronds, now soaked with volatile fuel gel.
The icekelp burst into flame, crackling with black smoke around the effigy of Ross. Bram untied the rope from an anchor pin on the ice shelf and used a pole to thrust the funeral raft out into the water. As the flames rose higher, the raft drifted into the current and was gradually carried out into the flat dark sea.
Jess divided his attention between the pyre and his father, wishing he could help more. Despite their feud, the old man had been proud of his eldest son, impressed by how much Ross had accomplished.
The pyre grew brighter as the blazing raft passed farther out onto the cold sea. The low ice sky reflected the orange flames.
Drawn by the light, large primitive nematodes rose from the undersea depths, poking their smooth, eyeless heads into the pocket of air. The nematodes were thick scarlet things with round mouths and tiny diamondlike teeth that were probably used for scouring holes through the walls of ice.
The Roamer observers gasped in surprise at seeing the rare creatures. Cesca moved closer to Jess. He could feel her presence, but could not tear his gaze from the waving forms that loomed around the glowing funeral raft.
Surrounding the now-dwindling pyre as the wooden raft began to break apart into charred timbers, the nematodes made weird hooting sounds, an eerie yet beautiful chorus that boomed off the vaulted frozen ceiling.
The alien grief expressed in the nematodes' song was more than Jess could bear. He felt Cesca's loving grip on his arm and was startled when he turned to look at his father and saw tears streaming down his seamed face.
47 GENERAL KURT LANYAN
The ruins of the Oncier system contained no survivors, no bodies, very little wreckage—and no clues about what had happened to Dr. Serizawa's research team. The four moons were nothing more than flash-cooled rubble dispersed in a widening ring around the hot new starplanet.
General Lanyan had not flown his fast reconnaissance outrigger here to mourn.