Ghost of the Well of Souls

“When do you intend to move your people from here?”

“In two weeks. The Sanafeans are not all that keen about dealing with us and may require a demonstration. Beyond that, we hope that this will not take long once begun.”

“And that would leave only two pieces left,” the colonel commented gleefully. “The one in Quislon and the missing piece.”

“Quislon is being worked on as we sit here,” the General assured him. “As for the missing piece, I have every expectation that I can put my tentacles on it when it is necessary to do so.”

“Then, sir, you know where it is already?”

“Not exactly,” Mochida responded. “But I believe that I know the one who does know, and, quite simply, that is more than sufficient for now.”

Magid

“I must say that this is unprecedented. I shall certainly complain to the line about this!” Algensor, the Kehudan, was still muttering. The silvery buglike creature had just learned that the long route the Bay of Vessali normally took, which swung out and passed briefly through her native hex before swinging back in toward Pyron, had been altered without warning.

They had come through the hurricane with some damage, but apparently the kind of damage the crew considered “normal” for that type of run, and they managed to clear the “short leg” of Mogari in under two days instead of the usual four or five for a nontech hex. Once the boilers had been brought back up and put back on line, it appeared that all was getting back to normal. It wasn’t until they passed through Kodon and Suffok and entered the high-tech hex of Magid that the announcement had been made of a course change.

In fact, even Jaysu had been unaware of any changes until, passing by the purser’s office one afternoon, she’d overheard the Kehudans complaining loudly.

“I am sorry, madam, but we have a technical problem and need to put in at a high-tech repair yard,” the little purser was saying. “Can’t safely make it the normal route, nope nope.”

“That is what your line always says when it wants to deviate from a route!” Algensor responded huffily. “I have a schedule, too, you know!”

“Can’t do anything, sorry, sorry, nope nope,” the purser continued. “You can complain to the captain, but we’ll still land in Alkazar tomorrow morning. We’ll get you on another ship as soon as possible, all free, yep yep.”

“Surely I cannot be the only one inconvenienced by this!”

But according to the purser, she was the only one. About a third of the cargo would be offloaded in Alkazar because it could be transshipped inland as easily from there as from Pyron, and the rest would be dropped off at the Pyron stop as usual. By unloading so much in Alkazar, in fact, they could take on some new cargo they hadn’t planned on getting.

Jaysu was confused by this.

“You must stop thinking of those hexes out there as empty sea,” Wally tried explaining to her. “They are as much ship’s destinations, or at least potential destinations, as ports. Cargo can be lowered to them and raised to the ship. There just wasn’t much business out there this trip, so they decided to change routes. Very fortuitous, in fact, for me and my associates, as we’d much prefer Alkazar to Pyron.”

She was surprised. “You will be getting off there, then?”

“Indeed yes, unless there is some hitch that develops. The Alkazarians, frankly, are somewhat xenophobic. They maintain the port and there is an entire multiracial colony and yard there, but nobody is allowed outside of the port region. It’s a kind of little hex unto its own. Getting permission to cross into the country proper can be a problem, although I believe I can get those clearances. It will save time.”

She was puzzled. “If they deal with everyone in a shipping port, why do they not like anyone elsewhere?”

The spider creature never ceased being amazed at her naivete. “My dear, they want what other places make, and they have things to export so they can pay for them. But beyond that, it is a sad country for a high-tech hex. A rigid military dictatorship, harsh and ruthless. It has been called a computerized madhouse, but it’s the people who are mad, or so I’m told. I haven’t been here before, but I’ve been in places like it.”

“What makes you think, then, that such people would allow you to cross?”

Wally paused a moment, then responded, “Well, let us just say that we are working for clients that have the respect of the locals here. Not friends, not allies, but, well, ‘respect’ may well be the correct word. Never mind. It is all just silly politics.”

“It is too bad that I, too, could not use their space. It would make my journey shorter, and I am so very anxious to get off this ship.”

“I wish I could help you, but I’m afraid I’m helpless in this situation. I’m going to be fortunate to get them to let me and my associates through. You understand.”

He was lying, but not in a way that threatened her. She had the strong impression that Wally had arranged this little detour in advance. She wondered how much it had cost his employers.

A mosaic of the eastern ocean and the ship’s regular routes was on the rear lounge wall. It had been one of the few points of interest for her in the otherwise boring passage, save the time she stared out at a hurricane.

She couldn’t read the map, of course; she doubted if she’d ever understand those odd squiggles and designs. Still, she knew which one was Ambora, and which one was Quislon, and the three types of hexes were color coded, so, if everybody was right, they were going to put in on the northwest point of Alkazar, one hex north of Quislon. There was a nontech hex between Magid and the hex leading into Pyron, though, which meant a few wasted days sailing past where she wanted to go so that she could put in, travel through half of Pyron, and then back halfway through Quislon toward Alkazar again. It didn’t make much sense. It would also get her to where she was supposed to be going only in the nick of time, and even then only if all went just perfectly, and if this diversion was truly the result of bribes rather than damage. Otherwise, she might not even be able to make Pyron in time, and would have done all this for nothing.

There was no sense of being near land throughout the day, but Jaysu could almost smell it. The birds also tended to show up in far greater numbers than at sea, and there were large fish and marine mammals both in the water, following, or even playing a game of derring-do ahead of the great ship.

Because Magid was a high-tech hex, the last day before hitting port was a very comfortable one. Alkazar, too, was a high-tech hex, so communications and navigation exchanges were possible ship-to-shore.

They were due to land in the very early morning hours, but all passengers were assured that they would not be required to waken, let alone leave the ship, until at least three hours after sunup. Representatives would meet them dockside after breakfast and take them to temporary housing or arrange for alternative passages.

She wondered who or what would contact her, or if she was just stuck in the clutches of the shipping line. She’d thought it odd that, after that first dramatic encounter with the Ixthansan, Eggy, she’d not been contacted again at any time by anyone.

Jaysu was out enjoying the air when she saw the two little creatures who were associates of Wally on the forward rail, where she generally liked to stand. Maximum inward breeze, good speed, where you’d want to be if you had to fly in a hurry off this deck.

She hadn’t liked either one and had stayed away from them. They radiated evil, and didn’t disguise their nastiness nor their seeming contempt for her.

The little apelike creatures, each no more than a meter tall, with their cherubic black wings and outlandish uniformlike clothes, did not look threatening, but neither she nor many of the other passengers and crew needed any kind of sixth sense to think them dangerous.

They chattered away to each other in a kind of native code that nobody’s translator ever picked up and straightened out; it was apparently designed with some sort of security in mind. Then, as she watched, the pair turned, climbed up on the top rail side by side, holding on with those large feet that looked exactly like their hands,