Chapter 5

“What were you thinking?” I asked Gyllian yet again, pointing my finger at her.

“You are getting excited,” Captain Star Runner interjected.

I turned to the fuchsia-colored Pantheran.

“Yes, I’m getting excited,” I said. “I was cold, hungry, about to be homeless and you were here all the time not giving a credit for my well-being. You told me you were off to that other arm of the galaxy.”

“I was,” Star insisted, “but Captain Gyllian Romeres Lujo said–”

“You whore.” I screamed at Star. My outburst startled all three of us.

“She contacts you and you run.”

The double entendre was not lost on anyone. Being a star runner means to run the spaceship.

“Captain Gyllian Romeres Lujo said it was important,” Star said, very confused by my outburst.

“It is,” Gyllian said.

She was, as always, calm and in control. My welfare seemed unimportant to her.

“All you had to do was ask,” I repeated. I sounded winy even to my own ears.

“We did not part on the best of terms,” Gyllian reminded me.

“It was because of you I find myself doubly in this position,” I retorted. I was getting angry all over again.

“I was minding my own business, doing my job, when you set off the Pantherans.”

“That’s what we working on right now,” Gyllian reminded me, “we’re trying to control this space.”

Gyllian had previously explained to me that she and Star were reviewing the insertion and extraction points which led to the Confederation of Three Planets. There had been some chatter that the Ministry of Defense for the Alliance of Planets on the Northern Frontier had overheard. In her opinion, Gyllian thought it possible that the Pantherans could enter this part of space and find the human beings here, human beings that did not want to be found.

“You owe it to the rest of humanity,” Gyllian said.

“I don’t owe the rest of humanity anything,” I said. “the rest of humanity hasn’t done much for me lately except put me under a death penalty. I might be better off in Ptolemy City where, despite not having much of a rule of law, I’ve always been treated better than you have ever treated me.”

Gyllian said, “A typical League of Hypatian Pirate response.”

“They have a point,” I said.

“The Pharaoh Star System can be useful,” Gyllian said, “but it is lawless and unprincipled.”

“And you thinking involving me in a death penalty situation is either lawful or principled?”

“Sacrifices have to be made,” Gyllian said.

“That’s easy for you to say when it’s not you that is being sacrificed.”

I stared at Star who had said nothing. The rational part of my mind knew much of this was incomprehensible to the Pantheran mind and to Star’s ungendered mind in particular. Star was a genetically modified being, created simply to serve Pantheran interests. Star’s self hood was of no importance to The Race at all. Star accepted this. When Star was designated for termination, however, Star had fled Coalition Space and set herself up as a trader on the Northern Frontier.

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you,” Star said.

“Not true,” I said, pouncing on her timidity. “Christabel said you were not due back in system for weeks.”

“We did not know about the charges,” Star said.

“And if I had not pushed to contact you, you would have found out too late,” I said.

Star folded up into quivering mass of Pantheran. She twitched all over.

I turned to Gyllian once again.

“And what would you have said then?” I asked her.

She shrugged as elegantly as Teddy shrugged.

“The death penalty was unforeseen,” she said.

Suddenly, Star’s unwillingness to defend my position and Gillian’s indifference was too much. I turned away and walked out of the lounge. I returned to the stateroom which had been mine. Some of my things were still there. I suppose the beaded case with my name on it had come aboard after all.

I sat on the edge of the narrow bed and put my face into my hands. I would not cry but I did not know what to think or what to say. No one had come to my defense. What did this mean for my relationship with Star. What was Star’s relationship with Gyllian? Gyllian had always known how to manipulate Star and Star accepted her word without question.

I knew why, of course. Gyllian had saved Star’s life when Star had been reckless. I supposed that was as good a reason as any to do what someone else asked.

I knew Christabel was watching. Christabel often kept her own counsel. She did not always share what she saw and heard with Star. Star’s thoughts and feelings were an open book to her.

Christabel spoke. “Ronnie, the Pantheran threat is real. It’s not just the chatter Alliance Intelligence picked up. The Fungusian Network has heard chatter, too.”

“How do you know?” I asked, despite my vow to myself not to care. I am, after all, a detective.

“Josh has been talking to them,” Christabel said.

“So Josh is in on this, too,” I said. I felt totally demoralized.

“Yes,” Christabel said. “And you might as well know that The Czarina and Captain Kidd are doing some reconnaissance as well.”

“So I’m the only one excluded,” I said. “Is Emily Dickinson involved, too.”

“He’s monitoring things on the Northern Frontier,” Christabel said.

Well, that was the whole group.

“The problems with the Landscape of Thorns is responsible for your exclusion,” Christabel said.

“I proved useful for The Big Dig,” I said.

Christabel did not respond. I wondered if Tamara might have had some influence there. I had gotten along well with her.

“Star wants to talk with you,” Christabel said.

I did not want to talk with Star, but I was aboard Star’s vessel and I could not continue to not talk with Star.

“Okay,” I said.

Scene 14: A Conversation with Captain Star Runner

I have forgotten so much. I don’t remember if this ride has a name. I cannot remember the name of the race which readjusted Star’s metabolic rate and what else that meant. I cannot remember exactly how Star’s platform looked except that it is turquoise in color, I think. I will have to come back and fill this in along with the right names of all these alliances and confederations. I think the people in the other arm of the galaxy are called the People of the Rainbow, but then again, that could be the bad guys. Maybe I’ll just stick with this and correct later. Sanctuary was written two years ago and I just don’t remember.

Although Star freely moves about the ship, Star prefers the area we human beings call the bridge. I think Star refers to it as the control center.

Star was stretched out on a pedestal with a platform large enough to hold Star’s body comfortably. The People of the Rainbow Way who inhabit another arm of our galaxy provided Star with this ship and this platform after readjusting Star’s metabolism to conform with their security systems. Genetic drift caused Star to become ill at their facilities. Ten thousand years ago or more Star’s ancestors ran ships from the western spiral arm to their space and back again. Star says the adjustment has made her responses quicker and her thinking clearer. It has also enhanced her already significant ability to locate insertion points into and extraction points out of hyperspace on the fly. All runners have this ability, but Star is the best, or so she says. Star is quite confident of her abilities. I am told all Pantherans are.

Star sat up when I came into the room.

“You wanted to see me,” I said, trying to keep my voice non-committal. Star was, after all, the captain of this ship and could see and talk with anyone she liked and the people aboard were duty bound to talk with the captain. This was always understood and there were regulations on the books. Whether those regulations applied here I did not know. Presumably maritime law would apply if no space regulations existed.

“Yes,” Star said. Star’s voice sounded just as non-committal as mine.

The tension in the room between us was palpable.

How many cliches can I write in as few sentences as possible? On with the plot if not the quality of the writing.

“I know you are mad at me,” Star finally said after a prolonged silence.

“I’m mad at everyone involved,” I said.

“I thought you wanted to be independent on Marathon,” Star said.

“Don’t put this one on me,” I snapped. “There’s no reason why you could not have told me you were back in system. You had no idea what was happening to me.”

Star was silent. I wondered what the back channel conversation between her and Christabel was. Star’s brain and the artificial intelligence Christabel share mind space. Star cannot regulate her own body. The AI must do it so Star is permanently linked to her AI. Christabel can archive and retrieve memories, present calculations and is an interface between Star and the ship. They are separate at some level, but they are also intertwined. Star has free will and emotions. Christabel can control thoughts and emotions through data storage and the application of biochemicals. It gives Star access to nearly inexhaustible memory but it also means that Star is totally dependent on her AI for even life itself.

“Christabel says I should apologize,” Star finally said.

“Do you think otherwise?” I asked.

Here it was again, the old uncomfortable situation of first our marriage and after its disillusion, our renewed relationship. Christabel was present. I could never have Star totally to myself. Star would not, could not, exist without an AI. As the most up-to-date model, Christabel seemed like another person in our lives. Star was able to record everything and play it back. I could learn everything Star and Gyllian had both talked about and done. Star had no secrets from Christabel and, if either Christabel or Star decided I should know about all these conversations and actions, I could know everything, too.

“I want to do the right thing,” Star said. “I do not like it when you are mad at me. I feel bad and I do not like feeling that way. Christabel says she will not remove that feeling until you are not mad at me.”

Christabel was taking her stand. The AI had definite opinions. She did not always side with me. She always maintains Star’s well-being is her first priority. She thinks making up with me is Star’s best path through this emotional minefield.

I took a deep breath. I did not like being mad at Star either. I loved Star and I was passionately attracted to her. Looking critically at her, I saw the signs of stress and demoralization.

I stepped toward the platform and held out my arms. Star went into them.

“You silly kitten,” I said. “Of course I still love you. I’m mad as hell but I haven’t stopped loving you.”

Star began to purr.

Star is a large, a very large, cat. The Pantherans do not like to be called cats, but looking at them, every human being can recognize a cat. Besides, they purr wonderfully. Star’s whole body vibrates with the sound of it.

Star tickled my face with her whiskers.

“Stop that,” I cried and batted at them, not too hard. I had to learn that they were very sensitive as well as being luxuriant.

Star is a striking Pantheran. For one thing, Star is fuchsia-colored, an extremely rare color. Most Pantherans we see are pastel-colored, but Star’s color is rich with both highlights of pink and lowlights of dark purple. The first time I saw Star she was prancing across the lobby of Shepheard’s Hotel, the finest and oldest hotel in Ptolemy City. She was wearing a filmy scarf which fluttered as she moved. I literally stopped and stared. The gossamer fabric set off her rippling muscles. She was magnificent and I wanted her though I had no idea what they would mean for my life or for my own sexual appetites. Human women were never the same after I made love with Star though Tara Lee had come close.

I squeezed Star’s shoulders, then stepped back.

“What’s going on here?” I asked.

“About what?” Star often misses the nuances of human speech and thinking.

“With your project, with what The Czarina and Captain Kidd are doing, with what is going on in Capital City.”

“You’ll have to ask Captain Gyllian Romeres Lujo about all that,” Star said. “I am working on the access to and from Mother Space.”

I rubbed Star behind the ears.

“OK,” I said. “Just don’t leave me.”

“I will not,” Star promised. “I will not abandon you on Marathon.”

“That’s good,” I said. “I would never forgive you.”

“Never?” Star asked.

“Never,” I said. “I will be dead if something doesn’t get straightened out.”

I knew, without discussing it with her, that Gyllian needed me on Marathon and despite my protestations, I also knew that stopping the Pantherans from finding the Confederation of Three Planets or at least coming into their space was absolutely critical. If the Fungusian Network had heard the chatter and passed it on through Josh, it was real enough. Star always thought of the Pantheran presence as the Pantheran Empire. She had always been schooled that the Coalition was a ruse to fool the other races. This could have been propaganda, of course. There is no doubt that gendered Pantherans exploit the ungendered ones, but something had always convinced me that empire is the truth of the matter. The Pantherans are in control. They choose to let the Pharaoh Star System go its way. If it were truly a problem, they would have shut it down.

Well, it was time to talk with Gyllian.

Scene15: A Conversation with Gyllian

I had seen Gyllian working in the lounge when I passed through to the Control Center. She was still there when I re-entered the lounge and sat opposite her at the round table used for eating and working. She did not look up.

I decided to watch and wait. This was a power play, of course, but it also looked like Gyllian was doing something important. Finally, she stopped and looked across the table at me. She did not speak.

“Why don’t you start by filling me in,” I said.

“I see you have come to your senses,” Gyllian replied.

My anger flared. OK, bitch, let’s see who can be the adult here.

“There’s a job to be done,” I said. “I cannot help you if I don’t know what’s going on. Dying horribly will not help your mission and losing me this way will not help your reputation even if I don’t appear in your reports. I’m sure word will get out that I was pulled apart by horses on your watch.”

Gyllian dropped the mug she was holding. More properly, she stopped holding the mug. Liquid splashed in her lap. The mug hit the floor and rolled away. Gyllian did not move.

“They do what?” she asked, staring at me incredulously.

“They tie each of your limbs to a horse and then have the horses gallop, one in each direction, north south, east and west, and you are pulled apart,” I said, describing what I had read in the filmy sheets. “It is a great spectacle. The more screaming there is, the better, and of course the blood. A certain amount of wagering goes on and there are all sorts of vendors selling food, drink and mementos.”

“How barbaric,” Gyllian exclaimed.

“Yes, I agree,” I said. “Prince Hollis thought he might get my sentence changed to a less painful death if I proved I had not killed the swan. I am not certain Hollin would agree.”

Gyllian did not respond to having spilled anything in her lap. I hoped she wasn’t burned.

“Are you OK?” I asked. “The coffee wasn’t too hot, I hope.”

Gyllian looked around for her mug.

“It’s on the floor,” I said. “You dropped it.”

Bewildered, Gyllian looked at her lap.

“Oh, I see,” she said, but she did not move.

“Who are Hollin and Hollis?”

“Hollis is the prince,” I said. “Hollin is the queen. They’re both kids. Hollin might be twenty. Hollis is still a kid, maybe fifteen or sixteen.”

“I thought the queen was Victoria and she is very old,” Gyllian said, regaining some of her control.

“Victoria is the old queen from old Earth,” I said. “They play parts for public consumption, but the real queen and prince are these kids.”

“I’ve only dealt with Lord Stern,” Gyllian admitted.

“He seems to be the grown-up,” I said.

“You had better tell me everything after I change,” Gyllian decided.

So she did and I did.

Scene 16: More Conversation with Gyllian

When Gyllian sat down at the table again with a fresh mug of steaming coffee she said, “I can understand now why you were so emotional when you came aboard. I want you to know that I never,” and here she paused for effect, “never intended for you to come to any harm. I hope we can put this misunderstanding aside to move forward.”

That was it. That was the apology she was willing to offer. On the face of it, she admitted no wrongdoing. There was “No, I’m sorry<”. Her physical response earlier was as close as I would ever come to her taking any responsibility for my plight.

I waited a little while before answering.

“Let’s talk about what happens next. I could hide out here where Hollin cannot reach me, but I don’t think that’s a viable long-term solution.”

Gyllian could have made a remark about how much I disliked living aboard a spaceship and how poor a space traveler I am, but she diplomatic ally refrained from bringing that subject up.

“I need you on Marathon, running this Rebel Horde group to ground,” Gyllian said. “From what The Czarina and Captain Kidd tell me, it has popped up all over Llondune. Fortunately,m as uncouth and backward as that planet is, it has the sense to discuss its problems with its neighbors. That isn’t happening on Marathon as far as I can tell. Each province is very insular. There’s a lot of unexplored and unpopulated area on the planet. This ship doesn’t have the sensors to do a planetary survey. That might indicate to us that there is a large settlement of people the provinces don’t know about, but if this is a fairly small group, we wouldn’t find them with the best ship available. The Ministry of Defense says I need to work with the resources I have.”

“So they don’t have a great investment in this project,” I said. It was more a statement than a question.

“It’s important.” Gyllian said. “Resources are spread very thin. It’s a very long border between the Northern Frontier and the Coalition. Besides, we have to keep an eye on the Republic of Space, Queens land and the Sacred Worlds. We also have to be aware of what is happening in places like Dirty World and Pirate’s Cove.”

Star had regularly worked many of these other worlds and called the two space stations home for some time.

“If The Rebel Horde is on more than one planet, it’s a fairly large organization that has the resources to travel,” I said, thinking aloud.

Gyllian waited to see what else I might say. My perspective was fresh and my ability to figure things out was quite good.

“I’m guessing they plant their messages where important people can see them. Why else put a message near a swan in Debussy-on-La-Mer. They are willing to take great risks. They killed a swan which merits the death penalty. Their aim is to change society.”

“Or to disrupt it,” Gyllian said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Suppose, just suppose, they are agents of a foreign power. They have no interest in changing any government. They are simply paid in one form or another to pretend to b a rebel organization intent on changing the status quo.”

“Are you suggesting these are Pantherans trying to disrupt the Confederation?” I was trying to picture this.

“What if they are human agents of the Pantheran Empire,” Gyllian said. “Richard (I cannot remember his last name but he called himself King Richard, Duke of the Gloucester Road) was such an agent.”

“That proved to be fatal for him,” I said.

“And it was nearly fatal for us all,” Gyllian said.

But I had become involved with Star during that time. (in Library of the Mind).

“What would be the Pantherans goal here?” I asked.

“Instability,” Gyllian responded promptly. “If there is suspicion and possibly civil war or unrest or hostilities break out between the provinces, no one will be paying attention to what an invasion force is doing. It wouldn’t take many ships to overpower these people. They depend on the locks for their extraction point, but Star has discovered many extraction points. I think it is a safe bet Star isn’t the only star runner that can find them. After all, they only have to find one to get in and one to get back out again. And who is going to defend these people? The Alliance doesn’t have the resources. The Solar League is inside Coalition Space. There is no organized government in the Southern Frontier that can even mount enough military vessels to make coming here worthwhile. No one has the financial resources to raise a force from the League of Hypatian Pirates or any other world.”

“And you think the Pantherans would do something like this?” I asked.

“The disappearance of those populations back in the Second Expansion irritates them. They have long memories due to the fact they keep all the records of all the memory files from that time as well as the reports and memoirs of the gendered leaders. The Pantheran contracts with the Fungusian Network are enormous and the amount of archives they have is staggering. It defies human comprehension. Add to that circumstance Star’s ability to get through an insertion point in the Pharaoh Star System and lock them out and you have a recipe for an empire-sized grudge.”

“Or,” I said, “it is strictly a local uprising that appeals to a lot of people. Having lived in one of the poorer neighborhoods in Capital City, I can tell you that a lot of people have nothing to lose and perhaps a lot to gain. There isn’t a lot of upward mobility as far as I could see. There are the haves and the have nots and there isn’t much in between.”

“It would really be helpful if we knew if The Rebel Horde was working in the other provinces,” Gyllian said.

“Maybe we can find out,” I said. “I wonder if Hollis could be persuaded to find out.”

“What sort of a person is Hollis?” Gyllian inquired.

“Hollis is very young,” I said, thinking about what I knew and what I suspected about the prince. “He is good-looking. He is naive and he does not have control over his emotions. I think he is fascinated by space but he does not have a grasp of the practical. He could not operate the telecommunications device you left Lord Stern. He could barely place a call unassisted. He respects authority. I could insist he do as I ask and he capitulated without much of a fight.”

“So he’s young, eager and malleable,” Gyllian mused. “What about his sister.”

“She strikes me as impressed with her own position and indifferent to the need of others. Her self-preoccupation seems more childish than anything else. I would call her a spoiled child. That’s how she acts.”

“So she is just as immature as the prince but in a different way,” Gyllian concluded.

“I think that would be a reasonable assessment,” I said.

“So Lord Stern may be the one running the show and making sure these two don’t run amuck.”

“Probably,” I said. “The Shadowers work directly for him. He may also control the Information Keepers.”

“But the Information Keepers give you what you ask for.” Gyllian was formulating a plan.

“You have to ask the right questions,” I said. “It’s not like a database you can poke around in. You have to ask specific questions to get information.”

“Explain.”

“I cannot say give me everything you have on spaceships,” I said. “I would have to say something like Can spaceships travel to the center of the galaxy. I can do follow up questions in the same request. How fast can a spaceship go. How long would it take? What would people eat on the trip, that sort of thing. I could ask for schematics or how to build the spaceship’s engines.”

“I see,” Gyllian said. “But you couldn’t say give me everything you have on spaceships and then poke around to discover some useful facts.”

“Besides, everything is printed out on filmy sheets,” I said.

“Of course,” Gyllian said. “They don’t have data retrieval systems.”

“They do, I’m sure,” I said, “but I don’t have access to them. I can only ask questions to be put into the data retrieval system so that the answers can be printed out.”

“How archaic,” Gyllian said.

I shrugged one of Teddy’s shrugs.

“You know,” I said, “a shadower would be a perfect person to plant those messages.”

“So would your crazy lady,” Gyllian said.

I smiled at her. “Maybe Teddy and Gwennore are working together.”

“Could be. If they are Pantheran agents, what better person to watch than you.”

It wasn’t funny any more. Gyllian could well be right.

Scene 17: A New Strategy Emerges

“You know,” I said, thinking as I spoke, “do you have a map of Marathon?”

“No, why?” Gyllian set her coffee cup down. It was empty. I had her full attention now. “What are you thinking?”

“People in Capital City are suspicious of strangers. Take my landlady, for example. She always says I should not have come to Capital City. Foreigners don’t belong there. She is convinced I’m from somewhere called the Democracy of Rock and Roll. I’m just wondering where that might be. Apparently the Democracy of Rock and Roll has very different values than that of the Royal Province of Debussy-On-Lamer.”

“And why is that important?” Gyllian was becoming impatient.

“What if The Rebel Horde comes from there,” I said. “If their values are opposite those of the Royal Province of Debussy-On-La-Mer, that would be a logical place to begin looking for these people whether they are Pantheran agents or not. In order to find them, it probably doesn’t matter immediately whether they are working for the Empire or not.”

“You have a point. If it is an internal matter, it probably doesn’t matter much to us, but they are rife for Pantheran infiltration. The Pantherans are perfectly capable of blasting in the system with guns blazing, so to speak, and wiping out all life, but they might be very interested in control rather than annihilation if cooler heads prevail.”

“And would cooler heads prevail?” I asked.

“Most likely. That is the genius of the ungendered work force. They are designed, to use that awful word, to perform their tasks efficiently and without question. To have that be a hallmark of their activities, the actions must be reasonable because the ungendered work pretty much independently of the gendered Pantherans and they work with other ungendered members of The Race.”

Except for officers on the military vehicles, I thought. Star’s encounter with them was degrading. It included rape and humiliation. That was a side issue and not germane to our general discussion. I knew what Gyllian meant. The gendered Pantherans stayed home mostly and the ungendered ones did all the work both domestically and beyond their home world.

“OK,” I said. “I can ask for a map of Marathon from the Information Keepers which will be generally useful and information about the Democracy of Rock and Roll, specifically, where it is and how to get there. If it is not too difficult, I’ll go there as part of my investigation.”

“Will you be questioned why you want to leave the province?” Gyllian asked.

“I have no idea,” I said, “but I think suggesting The Rebel Horde comes from there will be accepted. If The Rebel Horde is real, it is in definite opposition to a Royal Province. I will also ask if there has been any contact from The Rebel Horde in any other province. They may not know, but perhaps that information has been shared because it is disruptive.”

“OK,” Gyllian said. “We can give you a direct link to the ship so you can stay in touch. Keep us apprized of your movements. Barring anything unforeseen, that should be sufficient. Stay out of the Royal Province of Debussy-On-La-Mer if something goes wrong and we’re not here to pull you out. And finally, we’ll chip you so Christabel can find you if you cannot communicate with us directly.”