Transformation Space - Marianne de Pierres [105]
They did the same now, though more for expedience, passing around slabs of hot cheese dough and carafes of juice. The dough, though tasty, sat heavily in his stomach, and he was forced to eat it slowly. Fariss had no such problem, demolishing a panful by herself. The Swestr watched her with approval while Magdalen talked.
‘We need a way to the shift station,’ she said. ‘Who can help?’
‘The Sophos are monitoring all traffic. Politics are searching shuttles,’ said a heavyset women with long white hair.
‘What about private craft?’ asked Magdalen.
‘It’s impossible to get clearance. The uplift zone is chaotic.’
‘I can get us clearance,’ said Linnea. ‘If you can get transport.’
‘I have a space-worthy,’ said Ling-Ma quietly.
More looks of approval. Most of them knew, Thales judged, but had been waiting for her to speak.
‘Thank you, Ling-Ma,’ said Magdalen. ‘Now, once on the station we’ll meet resistance. We need to bring as many of the Feohte as you can fit. What’s your capacity?’
‘Twenty. Thirty if we don’t have to shift.’
‘What’s a Feohte?’ asked Fariss with interest. She’d stopped eating, and now picked dough from her teeth. Her large body sprawled across the floor, taking up the space of three women.
‘Feohte are the Swestr’s combatants. The Swestr doesn’t advocate violence, but they recognise the need for protection.’
‘And we are that protection,’ said a woman from the back of the room.
Thales – and everyone – turned to look at her. Though not as tall or broad as Fariss, she stood with the ease of someone who was comfortable with her physicality. Her arms appeared muscular beneath her short-sleeved tunic.
‘Janne,’ said Magdalen in acknowledgement. ‘You’re late.’
Thales knew the uniform. Janne was a free-hand, one of Scolar’s manual workers who’d chosen labour as the way to enlightenment.
‘The Politics are active all over the city. This meeting is being monitored. I saw them in the street. Best we appear to be carousing.’
Magdalen threaded her fingers together and twisted her hands. ‘I’ll bring in some bottles of piska. Everyone must drink a little before leaving. How much did you hear of our conversation, Janne?’
‘Enough. How many of the Feohte can you take, Ling-Ma?’
The Hekarian looked to Magdalen. ‘Who else will it be?’
‘Thales and Fariss. You, me and Linnea. That leaves space for fifteen Feohte.’
Janne made a dissatisfied face. ‘Twenty would be better.’
But Magdalen didn’t agree. ‘We don’t know what will happen up there. It’s possible we may have to shift to survive. I won’t risk more than I need.’
‘Fifteen Feohte against squadrons of politics …’ Janne trailed off and crossed her arms.
‘We aren’t seeking conflict, Janne. Simply shielding. We have one ambition only, to close the shift sphere.’
Janne narrowed her eyes. ‘That is what I’m talking about.’
Ling-Ma’s craft would be luxurious as the ship, the Last Aesthetic, which they’d taken from Rho Junction to Edo station, though Thales could only recall the cabin Tekton had rented for them, having been too sick to venture out into the ship.
He ran his fingers over the roughened texture of his cheek. The scars had finally healed thanks to the biozoon, but they would never fade, and nor would his bitter memories of Lasper Farr. The hero of the Stain Wars was a terrifying and immoral man who wielded too much power.
After they boarded Thales lay for a while in one of Ling-Ma’s guest cabins, but was roused by Farris what seemed to him almost immediately after he’d fallen asleep.
‘Nope, it’s been hours,’ Fariss told him. ‘We’ll be docking at Scolar station soon.’
Thales stretched and sat up. ‘What have you been doing?’
‘Gettin’ acquainted with Janne and the Feohte.’ She grinned.
Fariss was happy. Things were happening. How could she ever be that way with him, living an ordinary life on Scolar? If they succeeded in closing the shift sphere, that’s what she