The Children of the Sky

Ten minutes later, Johanna felt the last of the ties slip loose. Pack of Packs bobbed free, rising slowly from the valley floor. She had a last glimpse of Ravna’s expedition and Nevil’s group. The Deniers were waving solemn farewell. Most of Ravna’s people were just staring. Everyone was out of sight before she could spot Jefri and Amdi.

The ship turned after it was above the walls of the Streamsdell. They flew back along the north side of the great river valley. Ravna pulled down the quilting so Ta and Zek could get a good view.

“That slit in the side valley. Is that the entrance to Nevil’s cave system?” The voice belonged to Mr. Radio.

“Yup. If Woodcarver already knows about it, we should be able to get some maps.”

Tycoon’s voice grumbled: “I’m putting video senders at the top of my to-make list.”

In less than a minute, Nevil’s rat hole had slid beneath their view. The horizon ahead was an endless stretch of rock and snow and glaciers, lit by the setting sun. Flying at altitude, they had enough fuel for a nonstop return, but the trip would take all night and into the next day.

More than enough time to do one thing right. Johanna looked at Zek. “So where did you stow the commset?” she said.

Ta and Zek jabbed snouts at one of the low cabinets that lined the walls. It wasn’t locked. She pulled out the commset, one of just two that had finally fallen into Tycoon’s claws.

“What’s that you’re doing?” said Tycoon.

“I’m going to have a chat with Woodcarver.”

Mr. Radio emitted spluttering noises, no doubt from Tycoon. “Nevil will overhear!”

“Nope,” said Johanna. “Commset traffic is encrypted, and we’re so high that I can send direct to the coast. Nevil will not even know we’re talking.”

Tycoon was silent for a moment. Then: “Very well. Sooner or later we do need a detailed discussion with this Woodcarver.”

“That’s true.” Johanna put down the commset and looked at Ta and Zek. “But Tycoon, that’s not what I’m looking for in this chat. Woodcarver and I—we need to talk about personal things. If you refuse me, I won’t be mad, but … will you leave me alone for this, not even eavesdrop?”

It was a test Johanna had never intended to set. Truly, she didn’t expect Tycoon to trust her this much.

Tycoon was silent for a moment. “This is about the Pilgrim pack, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Another silence. “Very well.” Ta and Zek started toward the stairs. “But I want a full report on everything else!”

In just a few seconds, they were gone from the stairwell and the anteroom below. Johanna fiddled with the commset, trying to set up a session. Since the device didn’t know where it was, and she didn’t want it to ask the orbiter for a position, this was not entirely easy. But after a few minutes, she had clear green, and shortly after that—

“Woodcarver here. Johanna?”

“Yes. I said we should talk. Is now—?”

“Yes, now is fine. I’m alone in the thrones room.”

“I’m alone as well. I—I wanted to tell you about Pilgrim.…”

Johanna described the agrav’s last flight, the crash. Then there were the memories she tried not to think about. Maybe it was nuts to talk about each death now, to say all the things she had seen, but she did and Woodcarver listened. She wasn’t sure how anyone could make sense of her voice by the time that she finished. Woodcarver did. She asked questions, wanted to know everything.

When everything was said, and Johanna’s voice guttered to a stop, Woodcarver said, “He was dismembered, without a doubt.” Her own human voice sounded almost normal, maybe speaking a little slower than usual: “And is he totally dead? Probably. But this is Pilgrim. When you get back to Tycoon’s hideout in the Tropics—”

“I’ll keep watch, Woodcarver. I won’t give up.”

They talked of Pilgrim for some time more. They had other memories of him. Johanna’s went back ten years. Woodcarver’s were a patchwork of encounters that extended far longer.

They must have talked for two hours. Outside, the Icefangs had faded to dark and stars ruled the horizon. The Pack of Packs continued to climb as it approached the mountain passes. The air was steady and smooth, quite unlike Jo’s earlier passages over these peaks.

Reminiscence had turned into imagining how Pilgrim would have handled the present situation, and a general discussion of strategy. Johanna would definitely have things to report to Tycoon.

But strategy included discussing Tycoon himself: “Are you sure Tycoon is not snooping on this conversation?” said Woodcarver.

“I—” Johanna glanced at the speaking tubes. They were all capped. Where she was sitting, she had a good view of the stairs and the empty anteroom below. “Woodcarver, I truly believe he’s not eavesdropping, but that’s more a matter of trust than anything else—”

Woodcarver said, “In this case, what you believe may be the important thing. I’ve wondered for so long: what kind of creature is this crazypack?”

Oh! Johanna thought for a second. “He is weird. Numerous and weird. Sometimes he reminds me of Scriber, but he can be just as grumpy as Scrupilo. And then there’s the businesscritter side of him. Imagine what Flenser would be like if his goal in life was to sell you trinkets and used wagon parts.”

Woodcarver emitted a multi-hum that was surprised laughter. “Do you suppose I might have a chat with him?”

Chapter 44

Seven tendays passed.

The scam against Nevil continued successfully, so Johanna remained stuck here in the Tropics. It was the most fascinating time of her life. Each time she went into the Choir, she found something new. She’d returned to the River Fell, watched the rafts come and go. (Cheepers and company returned just sixty days after she did!) She’d walked the floor of a wild factory. Someday, she would pole a twinhull up the Fell to the North One Reservation—but when she’d suggested that to Tycoon, the Big Guy had completely lost his bluff brutality. He’d begged her not to be so stupid. Okay, he might be right about that expedition … Ha, she’d make the trip with Cheepers’ riverboat sailors! Meanwhile, there was always the Great Pyramid of the Choir. Johanna loved to hike on the Pyramid. She had lots of reasons, including the whiff of danger.

On this day, she sneaked out of the House of Tycoon near sunrise, the coolest time of day. Heck, it wasn’t more than 38 degrees Celsius and the rains had magically cleared away. Of course, the main reason for getting out so early was that this was before Tycoon roused himself. Half of him was much too nervous about the danger in her jaunts off the reservation—and the other half was too envious of them. Better to simply avoid the inevitable arguments that caused.

Zek and Ritl ambushed her just as she thought she’d made a clean getaway. Mr. Radio was hard to fool when he had good connectivity … and when the perverse Ritl was onboard.

“Going up on the hill again, aren’t you?” said the twosome, speaking nearly perfect Samnorsk. Most of the pack must be participating.

“Yes. Don’t tell,” said Johanna. They walked through one of the myriad staff entrances and stood in the almost-cool morning. She waved at the sky, now mostly blue, but with cloud tops catching the first rays of the sun. “I think it’s a perfect day for a walk in the Choir.”

“For you, maybe.”

The twosome strolled companionably along with Johanna toward the edge of the reservation, for once not relaying complaints about her possibly unhealthful hobbies. “Actually, I wanted to ask you a favor,” said Mr. Radio. “We lost the video from the northern-looking camera last night.”

“Yes, I know. It got knocked over. I’m pretty sure that was an accident. I’ll reset it while I’m up there.”

“Thanks.” Mr. Radio seemed to realize better than Tycoon how important Johanna’s hobbies might become.