AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Twisp repressed a smile. I guess he listened to my swiftgrazer pitch, after all.
Twisp knew that, among the council, there was no such thing as rank. They would vote to participate or not, and to act the ways their decisions dictated.
“We each have plans,” Twisp said, “now they will become a single plan. Project Goddess is four hours overdue their upcoast checkpoint. That will merit some consideration as well, this session.”
A murmur rippled about the table. The four witnesses looked pale and frightened when they came in, and the agitation of the council made them appear smaller, as well.
Twisp’s hand went up to still the chatter.
“We have other fish in the pan. Please bear with me.”
Twisp noted a message coming across Dwarf MacIntosh’s console, and nodded at Snej to retrieve it. He went on.
“Flattery has dominated with hunger and fear. His obvious motives: get himself offplanet, in command of a Voidship. We don’t argue with getting rid of him, is that right?”
There were nods around the table, but Mona spoke up:
“He’s going to take three thousand of our best people with him and leave that damned security force …”
“They want to go,” Twisp emphasized. “They should be free to settle the Void, if that’s their destination. We will be rid of him, that is our only concern. But we will have to break down the machinery of his power before he leaves. He must be brought down first, and we must be assured that he can’t possibly return. We must deal with criminals without becoming criminals ourselves. If we do not, then we and our children are lost.”
Snej read what MacIntosh had to say from the Orbiter.
“Twisp, Project Goddess has been … intercepted.”
“Intercepted? Well, now, that’s a step up from ‘lost,’ at least. Where are they? Who did it?”
“It’s the kelp,” Snej said. “Dr. MacIntosh speculates that the kelp got a whiff of Crista Galli and decided to take her. He’s being jammed on the burst system, but his kelp channel still works.”
“Did he dump enough data to brief us?” Twisp asked. He massaged away a headache gathering in his forehead. Today, more than others, he was feeling the weight of his second half-century. Snej handed him a messenger and he clipped it into his console.
“The kelp in sector eight diverted their foil into its stand,” Mack’s voice reported. “It completely shifted several transport channels to do so and an unknown number of subs were disabled, possibly lost. There have been casualties, number unknown. Current Control attempted mandatory ‘persuasion,’ on Flattery’s standing orders. No effect …”
Murmurings rose around the table. Twisp, too, was amazed.
Avata resisted, he thought. There’s the sign we need.
“Do we have anyone in that area?” Kaleb asked. “Any Kelp Clan people who know what they’re doing?”
Mona brushed her fingers across her console.
“Yes,” she said. “We have an Oracle landside of their position, plenty of personnel.”
“If shipping’s disrupted there, our people are probably in trouble, too,” Venus said. “I’ll try to raise a sub, but my guess is that the whole area’s impassable—”
Twisp interrupted.
“What we need now is total interference with anything Flattery does. Wherever his men go, whatever move he makes, we need people in the way, we need dead ends. He must be frustrated at every turn. Does his interference in Current Control indicate that he’s penetrated us?”
“It’s possible,” Snej said, her mouth a grim line, “but I doubt it.”
“Ask Dr. MacIntosh to shut down Current Control,” Twisp said. “There will be reprisals there, as you know. But we know more about moving around in the kelp than anyone, and most of it’s on our side. As of now, traffic worldwide will be at a standstill. You all know the dangers, of course.”
Twisp, who had fished the open seas for most of his life, knew better than any of them the fates they had just decreed for thousands on and under the ocean. Countless innocent people were now marooned in unnavigable waters, some among hostile kelp. The die had been cast, and by Flattery himself.
“Our success or failure depends completely on the cooperation of the people of Pandora,” he said. “We need to starve him out. Fight hunger with hunger, fear with fear …”
Kaleb stopped him with a raise of his hand, then apologized with the acceptable nod.
“We don’t fight hunger with hunger,” Kaleb said. His voice was soft, his tone as reprimanding as a new young father’s. “We’re human beings,” he said. “We fight hunger with food.”
After a deferential silence, Mona’s witness said, “Aye. Aye, we’re with you.”
“Kaleb, you show me how we can dump Flattery and feed the hungry and we’re in, too,” Venus said.
“It’s so simple it’ll make you cry,” Kaleb said. “Briefing now appearing on your screens. As you can see, we’ll need the cooperation that Twisp was talking about. We have to get Ozette and Galli on the air immediately. Can we count on Shadowbox?”
“You’re right,” Mona agreed, flurrying orders into her board. “Timing is the key, here. The people cannot help if they don’t know how. They will believe Ben Ozette, they will worship Crista Galli.”
“My people are infiltrating now,” Kaleb said. His voice was calm, confident, his father’s strong chin set straight ahead. “They will be about five thousand, well-mixed throughout the poor. Word of mouth is best among the poor.”
“Anything else from MacIntosh?” Twisp asked.
Snej nodded, biting her lip. “Yes,” she said. “He says Beatriz Tatoosh is aboard, and the drinking water has made her sick.”
Snej looked up from the messenger, puzzlement wrinkling her brow.
Twisp felt his heart double-time in his chest.
“Well,” he announced, “that’s our personal code for big trouble in orbit. Flattery probably sent up a security force with Beatriz. He must suspect something’s up with Mack. Damn!”
Twisp sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Too bad she’s not with us,” he said. “I wish MacIntosh had some support up there right now.”
“Let’s see what kind of support we have down here right now,” Kaleb said. “Let’s mobilize our upcoast people and rescue that foil.”
Kaleb rose, obviously ready to leave for Victoria immediately.
We need him here.
“Kaleb,” he said, “let’s take a walk. You’re nearly three hours away. Good people live upcoast, they’re already searching. For old time’s sake, let’s go down to the Oracle. Maybe someone should ask the kelp what the hell it’s up to.”
Chapter 44
Roots and wings. But let the wings grow roots and the roots fly.
—Juan Ramon Jimenez
Stella Bliss unpacked three crates of moss orchids and arranged them in threes along the short walkway to the foyer of the Wittle mansion. This job had come up only the night before, and Stella’s moss orchids happened to be ready. She was a sculptress of flowers, and appreciated an audience for her art.
Stella wore her new lavender puff-sleeve blouse and a crisp pair of matching work pants. The blouse favored her breasts, tender with her recent pregnancy, but she supposed this would be the last time she’d be able to get into these pants for a while.
Stella skirted the security guards and servants who found excuses to watch her. The limelight made her nervous, though her stature had thrust her into the limelight often since she was a child. Twelve hands tall, Stella turned heads wherever she went, even when she went in overalls.
Stella dressed like the flowers she raised. Doob told his parents that, at home, bees followed every step she took but they never stung. Her shaggy dark hair framed a tanned face with high cheekbones and blue-green eyes. Her lips were full, often pursed with concentration. She smiled a lot lately, and had taken to humming old tunes to the new human sleeping inside her.
Growing plants and
