Turminder Xuss.” She nodded at the floating sword handle.
“Pleased to meet you,” it said.
Holse stared at it. Well, he supposed this was no more strange than some of the Oct and Nariscene things they’d been treating as rational, talk-to-able persons since before they’d even left Sursamen. “Good-day,” he said. Ferbin made a throat-clearing grunt that might have been a similar greeting.
“Think of it as my familiar,” Djan Seriy said, catching the look on Ferbin’s face.
“You’re some sort of wizardess, then, ma’am?” Holse asked.
“You might say that, Mr Holse. Now.” Djan Seriy glanced at the silvery sphere and it disappeared. She looked at the floating sword handle. “We are thoroughly isolated and we are all free of any devices that might report anything that happens here. We are, for the moment, existing on the air we have around us, so let’s not waste words. Ferbin,” she said, looking at him. “Briefly, if you would, what brings you here?”
The silvery sphere came back before he was finished. Even keeping it as succinct as he could, Ferbin’s account had taken a while. Holse had filled in parts, too. The air had grown stuffy and very warm. Ferbin had had to loosen his clothing as he told his story, and Holse was sweating. Hippinse and Djan Seriy looked unbothered.
Djan Seriy held up her hand to stop Ferbin a moment before the sphere appeared. Ferbin had assumed she could summon it at will, though later he discovered that she was just very good at counting time in her head and knew when it would reappear. The air cooled and freshened, then the sphere disappeared again. His sister nodded and Ferbin completed his tale.
“Oramen still lived, last I heard,” she said, once he had finished. She looked stern, Ferbin thought; the wise, knowing smile that had played across her face was gone now, her jaw set in a tight line, lips compressed. Her reaction to the manner of their father’s death had been expressed at first not in words but in a brief widening of her eyes, then gaze narrowing. It was so little in a way, and yet Ferbin had the impression he had just set something unstoppable, implacable in motion. She had, he realised, become formidable. He remembered how solid and strong she had felt, and was glad she was on his side. “Tyl Loesp really did this?” she said suddenly, looking at him directly, almost fiercely.
Ferbin felt a terrible pressure from those clear, startlingly dark eyes. He felt himself gulp as he said, “Yes. On my life.”
She continued to study him for a moment longer, then relaxed a little, looking down and nodding. She glanced at the thing she had called a drone and frowned briefly, then looked down again. Djan Seriy sat cross- legged in her long blue shift, floating effortlessly, as did the black-clad Hippinse. Ferbin and Holse just floated feeling ungainly, limbs spread so that when they bumped into the sides they could fend themselves off again. Ferbin felt odd in the absence of gravity; puffed up, as though his face was flushed.
He studied his sister while — he guessed — she thought. There was an almost unnatural stillness about her, a sense of immovable solidity beyond the human.
Djan Seriy looked up. “Very well.” She nodded at Hippinse. “Mr Hippinse here represents a ship that should be able to get us back to Sursamen with some dispatch.” Ferbin and Holse looked at the other man.
Hippinse turned his smile from them to Djan Seriy. “At your disposal, dear lady,” he said. A little oilily, Ferbin thought. He had decided he did not like the fellow, though his new calmness was welcome.
“I think we have little choice but to take this offered help, and ship,” Djan Seriy said. “Our urgencies multiply.”
“Happy to be of service,” Hippinse said, still smiling annoyingly.
“Ferbin,” Djan Seriy said, leaning towards him, “Mr Holse; I was returning home anyway, having heard of our father’s death, though of course not of its manner. However, Mr Hippinse brought news regarding the Oct which has meant that I’ve been asked to make my visit what you might call an officially authorised one. One of Mr Hippinse’s colleagues contacted me earlier with an offer of help. I turned that first offer down but on arrival here I discovered a message from those one might term my employers asking me to take a professional interest in events on Sursamen, so I have had to change my mind.” She glanced at Hippinse, who grinned, first at her, then at the two Sarl men. “My employers have even seen fit to send a representation of my immediate superior to the ship to assist in planning the mission,” she added.
A personality construct of Jerle Batra had been emplaced within the
“Something may be amiss on Sursamen,” Djan Seriy said. “Something of potentially still greater importance than King Hausk’s death, however terrible that may be to us. Something that involves the Oct. What it is, we do not know.” She nodded to Ferbin. “Whether this is linked in any way to our father’s murder, we also do not know.” She looked at Ferbin and Holse in turn. “Returning to Sursamen might be dangerous for you both in any event. Returning with me may be much more dangerous. I may attract more trouble than you’d have discovered yourselves and I will not be able to guarantee your safety, or even guarantee that I can make it my priority. I am going back, now, on business. I shall have duties. Do you understand? You do not have to accompany me. You would be welcome to stay here or be taken to some other part of the Culture. There would be no dishonour in that.”
“Sister,” Ferbin said, “we go with you.” He glanced at Holse, who nodded sharply.
Anaplian nodded. She turned to Hippinse. “How soon can you get us to Sursamen?”
“Five hours in-shuttle to clear Syaung-un and synch the pickup. After that; seventy-eight hours to a stop over Sursamen Surface.”
Djan Seriy frowned. “What can you cut off that?”
Hippinse looked alarmed. “Nothing. That’s already engine-damage speed. Need an overhaul.”
“Damage them a bit more. Book a bigger overhaul.”
“If I damage them any more I risk breaking them altogether and leaving us reduced to warp, or limping in on burst units.”
“What about a crash-stop?”
“Five hours off journey time. But bang goes your stealthy approach. Everybody’ll know we’re there. Might as well spell it out with sunspots.”
“Still, option it.” She frowned. “Bring the ship in afap and snap us off the shuttle. What’s that save?”
“Three hours off the front. Adds one to journey time; wrong direction. But a high-speed Displ—”
“Do it, please.” She nodded briskly. The silvery sphere reappeared. The door that had slid towards them started to slide back again almost immediately. Djan Seriy calmly unfolded herself and looked round the three men. “We speak no more of any of this until we’re on the ship itself, agreed?” They all nodded. Djan Seriy pushed herself away towards the retreating plug of door. “Let’s go.”
They were being given exactly ten minutes to get themselves together. Ferbin and Holse found a place nearby in the hub section that had a tiny amount of gravity, windows looking out to the vast, slowly twisting coils of the great Nestworld of Syaung-un which surrounded them, and a little bar area with machines that dispensed food and drink. Djan Seriy’s drone thing went with them and showed them how everything worked. When they dithered it made choices for them. They were still expressing amazement at how good it all tasted when it was time to go.
