Divergence

“There’ll be a ship,” said Judy resignedly.

Saskia glared at her. Maurice ignored them.

“Help us, Aleph, and we’ll soon be on our way.”

“Oh, very well. I’m letting go of your hull. Off you go now.”

Maurice’s fingers danced across his console. “Where’s Miss Rose?” he asked casually.

“In her room, of course,” said Saskia. “This is just wasting fuel, you know.”

“Well, what do you suggest? Should we just ignore those things and sit here waiting for the Bailero to turn up of its own accord?”

Saskia said nothing to that.

“Fuel?” said Judy suddenly, her head tilted to the side. “The Eva Rye uses fuel?”

“Oh, yes,” said Saskia bitterly. “That’s part of the FE deal. Apparently use of such things as AIs and VNMs and unlimited engine range only gives us the idea that we can get something for nothing. That’s contrary to the FE philosophy. Though, of course, in our case we seem to get nothing for something every time we do a deal….”

Saskia sensed that she had lost her audience’s interest. She took a green apple from the white bowl in the center of the table, and crunched on it noisily as the Eva Rye began to move.

“I don’t like this,” Edward moaned. “I don’t like this!”

“Shh,” said Judy.

“The Petersburg did warn us,” complained Saskia, but Maurice tuned her out. They watched the flowers intently. The red and yellow and orange blooms hung there, apparently motionless.

“They’re turning to follow us,” said Maurice. “They’re still trying to conceal their contents. Aleph, what can you see?”

“Nothing as yet,” said Aleph. “Keep going. I can see them turning. They are…Oh, damn!”

The crew of the Eva Rye saw it happening at the same time. The flowers seemed to move together, their hidden mouths joining together to kiss and conceal.

“Now what?” said Saskia.

Nobody spoke for a moment.

“I suppose,” said Maurice, “we could go in and pick one up. Take a proper look at it.”

“No!” said Edward, gripping the soft white leather of the seat arm. “Let’s leave them alone. I don’t like them!”

“Don’t be so—” began Saskia.

“Hold on,” Judy interrupted. “Why don’t you like them?”

“Because,” said Edward. “Because they’re scary.”

“Hmm,” Judy said, “didn’t the Stranger tell you that Edward should be in charge? I wonder if the reason that you do so badly on Fair Exchanges is because you don’t actually take your payment.”

Saskia made a hissing noise. “Maurice,” she said, brushing her aubergine hair away from her face. “You really want to pick one up?”

“I think so. What do you think, Judy?”

Judy turned from comforting Edward. How can she keep so calm , Maurice wondered. Look at her with her porcelain face and her tranquil black body. Her words are so still, not like when Saskia speaks. When Saskia speaks it’s like this nagging little draft on the back of the neck, but with Judy the words are just there precisely, like letters on a page. Like everything has already been decided and spoken.

“I told you before, Maurice,” said Judy, “I’m just a passenger here. Besides, what will be, will be. Someone has