In his old regulation gray wing suit
Del was nearly invisible at the correct distance, which was about half a
kilometer. The party from the landing pod was trudging along the desert floor
toward the south rim of Hellas Canyon. Del’s goggles at least had falcon-zoom
focus, following his gaze into close ups while reading the rest of the
terrain. He circled while carefully maintaining distance, coming around
the forward side to see them clearly.
In the center of the group strode a
tall, young Earther woman in full space suit; he could tell even through the
face plate of her helmet that she had the darkest skin he'd ever seen, skin
like midnight. She must have true Earth eyes, he thought, wide and
unhooded and deep dark with no reflective elements at all; he imagined her gaze
tender, clear, bright and soft, her skin like silk. She was tall and curvaceous, walking with
that unique lope that only true Earthers had when they first landed: a bit
awkward and childlike, yet charming, captivating. Bloodlines often had
that particular appeal, and it wasn't just beauty. You wanted to bed them and protect
them at the same time.
If she was bloodline, he thought,
she must be headed for the Bowl. Could she be the new Lady? He vaguely
remembered that the changeover was coming soon. If she had been alone he
would have been able to offer escort, but she was accompanied b a big Kinlanian with a long swinging black braid down his back, even taller and broader of shoulder than himself, two typical-sized adapted
Marsers, both men, and a diminutive Earther woman who even through the
glare on her face plate looked vaguely familiar.
Del banked, circling around behind
them. His falcon-zoom lenses focused on a rock that was shifting, seeming
to slide apart. Then it rose, unfolding, and began to walk toward the
landing party. It was a woman.
She was as small as the average
Marser but she walked much more lightly and quickly, her feet a blur, gliding
scorpion-like over the sand and trailing layers of rusty rags. Del could
make out, even through her dusted goggles, glints of silver rings around
steel-pale irises. Strands of straw-colored hair escaped from her head
scarf. He'd heard about the yellow hair but he had never seen any
before. Her skin was buff colored and deeply lined with age. All characteristics were giveaways of the Hand. She was easily the ugliest person he had ever seen.
Del had thought the Hand were all
dead. The first five Adapteds from a century past, engineered with insensitivity to pain and the explosive strength of cats had been edited for
defense. The Firestar wars would never have been won without them. Though
bound to serve the freedom of Mars they had been too ferocious to continue
living when the conflict was over and peaceful society began; they had self-executed
for the greater good. Why-and how-was this one alive?
The big Kinlanian tilted his head
toward the small Earther woman-a barely perceptible move, but the pale, spooky-eyed woman reacted to it instantly.
She pointed a tube-shaped instrument
and released an electrical net, which shot out and wrapped around the little
Earther like sparkling blue barbed wire. The Earther fell, writhing. The yellow-haired
woman strode past the Earther who lay face-down on
the sand, occasionally jerking and trembling as the electrical field
dissipated.
Del's heart was pounding in his
ears. What was going on?
The woman with yellow hair seemed to
leap forward in a strange burst of speed, covering distance with lightening
ease. She went down on one knee before the tall beauty, brandishing a
flashing curved steel sword. She whipped it around her head in ceremonial
fashion, ending with the sharpest curve of the blade at her own throat as she presented
it, hilt first. The tall Earther took the sword, touched the pale woman's
shoulders with the tip of the sword, first one and then the other, and handed
the weapon back the same way, hilt to hand.
They locked eyes and spoke to each
other for several minutes. Del realized he had just witnessed something
ceremonial and perhaps even secret.
Turbulence caught him for a moment;
he had veered in too close and lost altitude. He'd been absorbed in
watching them. He arched his back, attempting to climb and turn, but he
had been spotted. The big Kinlanian shot a black powder burst in his direction. The signal to land.
Del had some time to think as he
passed over them, giving the thumb's up in agreement. He pulled his
chutes. They had to be headed for the Bowl, which was perfect. As
the representative of the new grid speaking to (he was nearly certain) the new
Lady, this would be the perfect time to start a new relationship. The Bowl
was the most important ally he could have. He could start his own guild today,
right now, just by making an alliance.
He searched his mind for
protocols. He'd never met a Lady of the Bowl, but he knew to be respectful
and call her "My Lady" and to be patient with their flowery speech
and complex etiquette. Bowlies (no, correct that, he thought, that’s a
rude term for Bowl dweller) didn't expect everyone else to be like them, which made
you want to be like them. It was annoying. But now he'd be his
best, charming self. He was good at that.
Del slowed to a walk as soon as his
feet hit the ground, his chutes folding slowly into packs on the back of his
suit. He lifted his goggles and hood and stood with his hands loose at
his sides. It would be easy to see he had no weapon.
"I'm Adelpho, but I go by
Del," he announced, "You might have seen me on Interworld
broadca-" almost before he saw the little pale woman leaping at him, she
was behind him. He began to turn but stopped when his wrists were seized
in iron hands and pinned behind his back.
"On your knees before I feed
your eyes to you." Her voice was soft and husky. Del grunted as she
kicked his feet out from under him, yanking him to the ground with the force of
three large men. She searched him for weapons; he was certain he’d take some
bruises home from the process.
The big Kinlanian, who was even larger
than he looked from the air, was striding toward Del at a determined clip. Del
heard a sword ring from its scabbard behind him.
"I'm on my way to the Bowl, as
I see you are," Del tried to smile through his quaking voice. His
eyes wandered to the little Earther woman lying prone in the sand behind them,
then snapped back as up the Adapted's shadow fell across his face. "I'm on
my way to bring news and updates-"
"You will kneel before the Lady
Jewell Isikirari."
The tall Earther stood next to the
Adapted and smiled down at Del. Her features were rich and delicate
through the glass of her helmet, and her eyes, as he'd guessed, enormous and
dark and soft.
"We-I mean, I-" Del
stammered.
"You may accompany us,"
said the Lady. His wrists were released and he was jerked to his feet.
“Adelpho Demir of Arkaios, son of Adnan Demir of the New Petra Adapted Bodun
and Nascha Begay, daughter of Mary Starrider Begay of the Third Ma’az Long
Canal Adapted Clan, who both died tragically in the Olympus mining accident of
3442, champion flyer, announcer and presenter of Interworld Guild. A pleasure
to make your acquaintance.”
Now Del remembered. The Lady of the
Bowl knew the living histories of everyone on Mars, not just the Bowl. In
addition to being a master of conflict resolution, mediation and an expert on intertribal law, every Lady
also knew all the laws and customs and spoke every language and dialect on the
world; she was head of the courts and usually the Mars ambassador to Earth and
Luna communities as well. The Lady was always Earth bloodline and nearly always
descended from Masaai royalty, often of the Isikirari line, and trained for the
job from birth. Ladies of the Bowl also had mastery of several other skills,
but Del couldn’t remember them all now.
Lady Jewell motioned gracefully to
the rest of the party. “This is my adviser Hank, and my crew Jomo and Kitano
and of course," her smile deepened as she looked down at the pale woman
now standing next to Del, "Anma."
Anma was several meters away before
Del saw her take a step. She bent to check a panel of the prone Earth
woman's suit.
"Now," said the Lady,
"I apologize for our aggressive manner. You have taken note of the
Earther woman accompanying us, who is a confirmed security risk and presents a
conundrum at an inconvenient time. But now, I would like very much to hear all
about your plans today. As we walk," the Lady began to stroll in the
direction of the Bowl, as casually as if they were chatting during a garden walk.
"What are the backup protocols for Interworld, in a predicament such as we
find ourselves?"
Del cleared his throat. "I
am no longer with Interworld, My Lady-" he began.
The woman on the ground stirred and
looked up at them. Del realized now why she had looked familiar.
"Del?" said Jennifer Tran.
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