around Maghada Prime. Two thousand, five hundred crew. Lost with all hands off Tau Ceti during her second trials. The wreck was recovered and the Zosen tore the remains of the ship apart, seeking to understand her death.
“This much they found-” he held his thumb and forefinger apart by the smallest fraction. “One of the waste recirculators failed behind a bulkhead, seeping biochemical sludge into the between-hull. Line-sensors reported the initial leak, but the engineering tech investigating the alert did not enter the between-hull. Instead he checked the flow meters on either end of the line, saw they were within variance of each other, and then suppressed the alert.
“The sludge-containing a robust strain of mycelium-seeped through the between-decks, multiplying vigorously. Now it infiltrated the air circulators for a series of sleeping compartments and poisoned the men occupying those quarters. A contamination alert was triggered, but the men didn’t realize they were suffering from mycotoxic infection when they went on shift. A sanitation crew arrived after they had left-and by then it was too late. Two of the uchu were gunnery crewmen and began suffering violent hallucinations at their duty station. Agarwal was destroyed by a sprint missile ignited in the launch-rack by mistake.”
Susan said nothing, waiting for the Mayan to continue. After a long moment, Chac continued: “The technician refused to enter the between-hull because one of his coworkers had suffered a bad injury in the same area during construction. The man had lost his left arm when his z-suit was ruptured by a dislodged stanchion. His z-suit autosealed, of course, but the severed limb was too badly damaged by cyanosis by the time the rest of the work crew got him inside.”
“And what,” Susan asked, now truly curious, “would you have done to prevent this?”
“ Chu-sa, my purpose is to address kaach’al -the things which are broken. To mend them. One of the most curious things to repair is men’s apprehension-their fear of ill-luck. Had I been aboard the Agarwal, then my huitzitzilnahaualli and I would have attended to the compartments where the man was injured. And every crewman aboard would have known of what happened and how any ill-luck was taken away from that place.”
“What?” Kosho could not help herself. “How is this not wild superstition?”
Oc Chac shook his head in dismay.“How is a dwelling haunted, Chu-sa? There is nothing that can be measured, no true apparitions to behold-but you enter and feel a deadly chill, you walk night-drowned hallways and your heart races with quiet panic. What makes this dreadful place so different from your parents’ quiet peaceful garden where your heart finds ease?
“Nothing! Do not delude yourself, kyo, every centimeter of Anahuac is drenched in blood. No meter of the earth has not seen murder, rape, betrayal, theft… if you knew the provenance of every stone in that garden, you would recoil, your mind’s eye filling with the blood of the innocent, your ears with the shrieks of those enslaved or betrayed. There is no difference between the cursed dwelling and the beautiful garden, save that you do not know what has occurred there.
“This is the purpose of the huitzil -to go into these dreadful places, to show himself to all, for his feathered cloak to shine alabaster white, to take upon himself the burden of this ill-luck, these curses, this dreadful karma- before an entire crew, a nation, a planet. And by his sacrifice, to ease so many minds and lighten so many hearts that you can, once more, lift the tool, use the chamber, send the ship of war into the face of the enemy with an unburdened heart.”
He fell silent, and Kosho did not speak. Instead, she stepped away, circling among the radiating fins, her head bowed in thought. When at last her steps led back to the old Mayan, she regarded him with a new appreciation and a faint smile.
“Then you cannot leave the ship until all is done, can you?”
Chac shook his head sharply. “ Chu-sa, you cannot have her for-at least!-another three weeks. Then you can catch up with your admiral! I will not authorize release from the yards until then.”
“Very well.” Susan removed the second packet from her pouch. “ Sho-sa MacMillan will not be joining us from the Akashi. He has been brevetted to command in place of her late captain. And I must replace him with someone the men trust, particularly if they are wary of me and my inexperience.”
“Very wise, kyo,” the Mayan nodded sharply. “You will not interfere with my duties?”
“I will not. But I will guide them, as needed, and expect you to perform admirably.” With this she presented the packet and gave an abbreviated, but proper bow. “Welcome to the Naniwa, Sho-sa Oc Chac. I’ve had the orderlies move your gear to the XO’s cabin-a bit more spacious than your old bunk, I trust, but not palatial!”
Chac stared at the orders packet, then at her in horror. “Impossible, kyo. Zosen are not Fleet line of battle officers! I’ve no-”
“Due to his knowledge of the crew, the ship, and all on-board systems,” Susan recited from memory, “Oc Chac- tzin is the most expedient and effective replacement available for MacMillan.”
She squared her shoulders, regarding the older man with a stern expression. He was struggling to frame a response.
“ Sho-sa, we have sixteen hours to finish loading supplies and get underway. The rest of the squadron is already formed up off Europa-two more battle-cruisers in Tokiwa and Asama, with the heavy cruisers Axe, Gladius, Falchion, and Mace as escorts for the Fleet tender Hanuman and the science platforms Fiske and Eldredge. They’re our real purpose, I expect.”
Chac let out a long, sober hiss of dismay.
“The Mirror, kyo.”
Kosho lifted one eyebrow. The battle-group manifest was terse but could not disguise the throw-weight surrounding the two exploration ships. “What suggests this?”
“Sealed orders, Chu – sa, we’ve had no real-time 3-v onto the stellarcast in weeks. No regular mail coming or going. All incoming manifests under crypt, but you’re doubled on every kind of ration, repair-part, and munitions they can pack in. Be gone…” The Mayan pursed his lips, calculating stowage. “At least nine months.”
“Back of beyond…” Susan smiled tightly, tapping her own orders packet. “Stepping out into the big dark.”
“A bad omen, kyo,” Chac growled, “a very poor precedent. The festival of Mictecacihuatl is underway…”
“Prove them wrong, Sho-sa. Dispel this apprehension.” She paused minutely. “Put on a brave face!”
Two days later, with her comm-panel singed by a vitriolic series of messages from her commander, Chu-sho -or Vice Admiral-Xocoyotl, Kosho was on the bridge of the Naniwa as she matched velocity with the rest of the battle-group nearly sixty million kilometers off Europa. One pane of her command comp showed their approach to gradient as a sharply narrowing spike.
Below her and to one side, Oc Chac was standing behind the two Thai-i on the Navigation boards, gnarled hands clasped behind his back.
“There’s the go-ahead, kyo,” he announced. Mace and Falchion were in the lead, and both cruisers had cut maneuvering thrust in preparation for transit.
“They’re not wasting time.” Susan switched to the all-hands channel. “All hands prepare to make gradient. Transit in five minutes. Repeat, transit in five minutes.”
Susan sat back, her heart steady, looking for a moment upon the golden orb of Jupiter arrayed behind the blue-black of nightside Europa. Where now, she wondered. An ancient jisei crossed her mind as the whine of the main coil began to shudder through the decking, lifting the fine hairs on her arms and making her inner ear sing in counterpoint.
Rise, let us go- along the path lies the clear dew.
THE WILFUL
Hadeishi woke, feeling the ship drop from transit with a twisting sensation. Almost immediately a subsystem somewhere in the ceiling kicked into operation. With a frown he realized that a capacitor was discharging at sharp, staccato intervals. Transit shielding is taking a hit; he thought and swung down easily from the hammock. His boots, a heavy jacket he’d scrounged, and his tool belt peeled off the wall easily enough. Out of habit, he tugged at
