Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [205]
“Home sweet home,” Caleb said as they cruised above the wellheads and scattered pumping stations. From the outside, the ice moon didn’t look like much.
“If you say so.” Denn brought the Persistence in next to a primary refilling station. “That’s why I like having my own ship—I’m always at home wherever I fly...though with the Eddies everywhere, I can’t go on my normal routes.”
Caleb studied him as the two men prepared to disembark. “I don’t like somebody telling me that I can’t go where I want. Let’s have an all-out bitch session with my brothers. That’ll make you feel better. Besides, they keep plenty of good stuff to drink, brewed with the purest primordial water.”
Denn frowned at the salty old man. “You think that’ll help us see the Guiding Star more clearly?”
Caleb laughed. “I guarantee it—you’ll start seeing double stars.”
Denn sat in warm clothing beneath a frozen-solid sky. The underground ocean rippled like gray oil, and dim white artificial suns shone down, casting sharp shadows.
The Tamblyn brothers told the astounding tale of Jess’s return and how he had moved through solid ice to retrieve his mother’s body, which remained on the frozen shelf, still encased in ice. Denn’s ears pricked up when he learned that Jess had rushed off to rescue Cesca from some disaster on Jonah 12, but the brothers couldn’t give many details. “He didn’t explain a whole lot—just raced out of here. Said he was going to get her.”
“I’m glad he was in a hurry.” It was the first news he’d heard of his daughter since the destruction of Rendezvous, and it hurt to hear she might be in danger. With his incredible powers, Jess was probably the best person to go after Cesca. And Denn certainly knew of the young man’s love for her...
He stared down at the glass in his hand. The Tamblyn brothers started with Plumas water, then added special ingredients to distill their own alcohol, augmented with flavors reminiscent of either whiskey or gin. Denn didn’t think the stuff was particularly good, but he was a guest. Here, safe, there was no harm in getting sociably drunk with Caleb, Andrew, Wynn, and Torin. After all, they had to solve the problems of the universe.
After Denn and Caleb described what they had seen in the ruins of Hurricane Depot, all of them speculated on what had happened to the Roamer prisoners taken from there. “Does the Big Goose just think we’ll cower in our boots and surrender?” Torin said, refilling his glass. He spat onto the ice, and his saliva crackled as it froze in the deep cold.
“I don’t think the Chairman knows what he stepped in.” Caleb worked his jaw as if he intended to spit as well, but decided not to follow the example of his younger brother. “He shouldn’t mess with Roamers!”
“The clans will survive,” Andrew said quietly. “You’ve already made a start with Yreka. There’ll be plenty of outlying colonies all too happy to trade with us under the table.”
Denn took another long drink of the burning alcohol. “The Big Goose shat on them as well—they’re more like us than people from Earth. But it’s dangerous. The Eddies will crack down on anybody they catch.”
“I say we don’t stand for it anymore!”
Wynn spat a mouthful of saliva, nailing precisely the same spot that his twin had hit. “Rand Sorengaard had the right idea after all. We should have followed him instead of trying to work through civilized channels.”
“Civilized? That’s a joke. Those Eddy raiders are worse than Rand ever was. And they called him a pirate! Ha!”
Denn’s shoulders sagged. “General Lanyan had a lot of nerve executing Rand in the name of 'peace throughout the Hansa'—if he was going to use the same tactics himself.”
“I say Rand Sorengaard was a revolutionary.” Torin swayed slightly