Part 28 (2/2)

Vincenzi followed the jaresht jaresht out of the barracks. The training grounds were a wide, barren area between two rocky hills. For the first week, Vincenzi had thought the whole Skag moon was like that, before their first really long run had taken them into the valley next door. Evidently this area had been overfarmed so badly it was useless. The valleys all around were full of fat, healthy alien plants. out of the barracks. The training grounds were a wide, barren area between two rocky hills. For the first week, Vincenzi had thought the whole Skag moon was like that, before their first really long run had taken them into the valley next door. Evidently this area had been overfarmed so badly it was useless. The valleys all around were full of fat, healthy alien plants.

204.

Vincenzi wondered whether the jaresht jaresht had been a farmer before the Empire had gobbled up her world, or whether she'd always shouted for a living. had been a farmer before the Empire had gobbled up her world, or whether she'd always shouted for a living.

She led him to the mess hall. A new s.h.i.+pment of recruits had arrived during the night; he'd been woken briefly by the sound of their retros. He wasn't surprised to find them jammed into the mess hall, looking jet-lagged and nervous.

'Mooooooller!' called the jaresht jaresht. 'Come along!'

A short, bulky woman detached herself from the other recruits and hurried to the Skagette's side. 'I hear you!' she said.

Learning the ropes already, good.

'Vinsensee,' announced the jaresht jaresht. 'Mooooooller is going to be your sergeant. Once the training is complete, it'll be time to start putting the units together. I want her briefed by this afternoon.'

'The COs are arriving today?' said Vincenzi. 'Today?'

'Running ahead of schedule, chumanet chumanet,' said the jaresht jaresht. 'Get talking, have breakfast.'

Vincenzi shook Muller's hand. 'Welcome aboard. How'd they get you?'

'Volunteered, sir,' she said. 'I was thrown out of the navy induction program for insubordination.'

Vincenzi blinked at her.

'I thought I'd better tell you straight way, sir,' she said. 'How about you, sir?'

'Ah,' said Vincenzi. 'Insubordination too, I guess.'

Muller nodded. 'How's the training been going, sir? Do you think we really have a chance to change things?'

'Change things?' said Vincenzi. 'I think we have a chance at winning this war. But change things... Maybe things will be different afterwards.'

'I hope so, sir.'

205.

3.

Kibero Kibero Patera, Io, 16 July 2982 Chris had been walking for three hours. He took out the map he'd been given, tracing a finger along his route... Grief, he'd covered only a fraction of the distance.

He was parched and his legs were starting to protest. He stuffed the map back in the pocket of his board shorts. There was only one thing for it.

There was a cafe just up ahead on the right. Chris stumbled inside and sat down at a table, one of a dozen, round dark circles hovering on miniature nullgrav generators. The table bobbed slightly when he leant on it, before firming up, positioning itself at a comfortable height.

It was the sixth cafe he'd pa.s.sed on his trek around the Forrester house. 'Cafe' probably wasn't the right term. 'Dining area,' maybe. He'd seen employees and family members eating as he'd pa.s.sed by.

He was determined to walk the whole of the outer hallway, a thirty-kilometre stretch of carpet and windows circling the building at its base. He'd started from the transport access tunnel, a long metallic tube stretching away across Io's barren surface, puncturing the crater rim.

206.

They called this part of the structure the Needle, and the palace proper was threaded through it, descending into the rock, shooting up into the sky, four hundred storeys in all.

And Roz grew up here. Somewhere, he bet, there was a nursery big enough to play football in.

'Can I help you, sir?'

Chris looked up. He'd been expecting a robot, but it was a waiter, a skinny middle-aged man in one of the house's uniforms.

Not a waiter. A servant. 'Um,' he said nervously. 'Can I get something to eat? I mean, a menu.'

'Certainly, sir.' The servant tapped the table top on the b.u.t.ton marked MENU, previously hidden behind Chris's elbow. 'Shall I leave you for a moment to consider?'

'Oh, no, that's OK, can I please get...' The menu was all in !Xhosa. There was a horrible moment as Chris realized he was going to have to ask for a translation. With a lurch of relief he realized that there was an icon for English at the bottom of the screen. He tapped it. '...a cheeseburger. With fries. And a chocolate milk shake, please.'

'Your meal will be ready in three minutes, sir,' said the servant. He gave Chris a tiny bow and retreated.

Oh, man. This was difficult to cope with. This was way too big.

Bigger than a majorly expensive hotel. Bigger than a factory.

Bigger than the overcity block he'd grown up in.

And this was Roz's home. She could go anywhere here, except maybe the private apartments of one of the other Forresters.

And who the h.e.l.l was he?

He thought he knew her, thought he understood understood that her family were rich, that they owned a that her family were rich, that they owned a planet planet for chrissakes. He'd watched for chrissakes. He'd watched Lifestyles of the Obscenely Wealthy Lifestyles of the Obscenely Wealthy he knew what it was all about. he knew what it was all about.

He'd really believed that it didn't matter, that she'd left this all behind to be an Adjudicator. But you couldn't leave something like this behind. It was too big.

Jesus, the time he'd kissed her. He was lucky she hadn't laughed in his face. Maybe she had he'd fainted afterwards.

207.

The servant was back, bearing a tray. Chris wondered if he was supposed to leave a tip. 'Thanks,' he said, awkwardly. Another quick nod and the man was gone again.

On his walk he'd pa.s.sed swimming pools and gymnasiums, cinemas and gardens, a zoo and an art gallery. He'd pa.s.sed by areas of landscape meant to simulate half a dozen Earth environments and half a dozen more alien ones. Look to the right, and you saw sky, gra.s.s, birds; look to the left, and you saw rocks.

Deeper in the building there were laboratories, hydroponics plants, reprocessors, you name it. It was like an arcology. The map said the palace could survive for a year without any outside contact.

He finished his meal, wondered what to do with the tray, and ended up awkwardly leaving it on the table. He took the milk shake with him.

He walked for another hour. The palace was spa.r.s.ely populated most of the people were servants, outnumbering the family members fifteen to one. He'd seen just one other person in the Needle, a woman jogging in the opposite direction. Family, probably, pureblood. She gave him a smile and a wave as she pa.s.sed.

Every so often a transport would whoosh overhead. The ceiling was thirty feet up, curving over a shuttle tube suspended from a thick metal strut. No one seemed to walk, even the short distance between tube stops. After a while there was a certain sameness to it, he supposed.

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