ship. . . . Or forget the whole thing.”
“I would agree with you,” the runner responded, “except for the Lysander problem. He won’t leave you alone until Logos reaches Socket—and I promised him I would make the delivery.”
“And don’t forget the gates,” Hoggles added. “Once people can step from planet to planet, knowledge will spread, lives will be saved, and conditions will improve for billions of people.”
“Or so Lysander claims,” Rebo replied cynically, “but that’s the hope. So I reckon we should board.”
“I’m in,” Norr announced, fi?ngers wrapped around her staff.
“Me too,” Hoggles agreed.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Logos interjected. “If those ruffi?ans hurt you, they could hurt me, and that’s unacceptable. We must return to Tryst, where we will await the next ship!”
“I’ll take that,” Rebo said, as he lifted Norr’s pack off her shoulders. “Now, if you remove that raggedy-looking coat, I think you’ll be a lot more comfortable.”
Logos, his voice ever more strident, was still talking when the sensitive rolled the AI into a ball and shoved him down into the depths of her pack. The ramp hit the ground at that point, and rather than the outpouring of passengers that Rebo expected, no one appeared. That was a surprise, but there wasn’t much time to think about what if anything the phenomenon might mean, as the fi?rst-time passengers nearly trampled one another in their eagerness to board. The voyage was about to begin.
THREE
The spaceship
—Grand Vizier Imbo Moratano,
Church of the Antitechnic God
One hundred and fourteen people, that was how many crowded their way into the shuttle and were forced to stand shoulder to shoulder as the ship forced its way up through Thara’s atmosphere. Some of them cheered, some of them cried, and at least a dozen threw up as the shuttle left the planet’s gravity well. Had they been free to do so, the passengers would have free-fl?oated through a galaxy of vomit globules. But the tightly packed bodies held the travelers in place, and while that was claustrophobic, it helped to prevent injuries. Those who knew to do so wore bandit-style bandannas that fi?ltered most of the vomit out of the air. But no one could completely escape the vile mist that found its way into their hair and clothes.
Fortunately, the trip was relatively short, which meant that after only a few hours of suffering, Shewhoswims guided the tiny extension of herself into an open docking bay. There was the barely heard whine of hidden machinery, followed by the sudden restoration of gravity, and a dull thud as the transport was captured and locked into place. “And here it is,” Rebo said to no one in particular. “Home sweet home.”
An especially long fi?ve minutes passed before servos whined, the aft hatch hit the deck outside, and those closest to the opening were given access to the ship’s decontamination chamber. It was smaller than the shuttle’s cargo bay, so only a third of the passengers could enter before the hatch closed and a thick mist fogged the air. The runner, sensitive, and heavy had been expecting the antibacterial spray, but some of their fellow passengers weren’t. Some screamed and started to thrash about, while others attempted to calm them. Rebo took the opportunity to confer with his companions. “I fi?gure about thirty to thirty-fi?ve members of the Circus Solara were on the shuttle. Maybe half that number are here in the decontamination chamber. It’s pretty clear that the whole group has been planet-hopping for years—
and is familiar with the way the ships operate. That’s why I expect the advance party to make a run for the hold, secure a corner, and wait for the rest to arrive with the baggage.”
“That’s what I would do,” Hoggles agreed stolidly. “And it will work. They have more arms and legs than any other group aboard.”
“Exactly,” Rebo agreed. “And once they get established, they’ll come after us. So, rather than grab a wall slot or try for a corner, I suggest that we seize control of the water supply instead.”
Norr was visibly surprised. “But that’s public property!
No one does that.”
“Oh, they try,” the runner replied. “I encountered the problem once. A group of toughs set up camp right in front of the faucet and charged each passenger a gunnar per bucket of water, until the rest of the passengers banded together and put a stop to it. Five people were killed during the battle.”
Hoggles frowned. “So why would we want to put ourselves in a position to get killed?”
“We’ll go about it differently,” Rebo answered. “Rather than demand money from our fellow passengers, we’ll provide them with water for free so long as they don’t attack us. But if they do, we’ll cut them off.”
“You’re pretty smart for a norm,” Norr said admiringly.
“No wonder I hang out with you!”
“You may feel differently later on,” the runner replied soberly. “It won’t be easy to guard that faucet constantly. . . . But it’s worth a try.”
The heavy nodded. “So, what happens when the hatch opens?”
“Lonni and I will make a run for the hold,” Rebo replied, as the mist began to dissipate. “You bring up the rear with the packs, or if they’re too heavy, guard them. One of us will come back to lend a hand.”
The hatch had already begun to open when the sensitive freed herself from her pack and, staff in hand,
