“You quote our Clan’s founder to me?” Petr pretended outrage.

“If I become a small footnote next to Karen Nagasawa, I will be honored indeed.”

Petr couldn’t help sink a barb, so rarely did the other man offer such an opening. “More so than by a Bloodname? How …unClanlike.”

Jesup jerked as though kidney-punched, then assumed a contemplative look for several long heartbeats. “I will take both, quiaff?”

Petr laughed. “Aff, Jesup. Now that is what we need in our Aimag. The determination to seize victory.”

“If that is what we need, ovKhan, then simply challenge him to a trial and remove him. Be done with this obsession.”

Petr grimaced and waited for the flood of anger. It failed to materialize, allowing the memory of his last trial against Sha to rise to the surface. He attempted to distract himself from the memory with a glance at the mysterious data cube, but that further soured his mood. Already he had spent hours trying to pierce the veil of its central riddle, to no avail. One obsession (to himself he would admit that word) was bad enough. Two would be intolerable.

“Jesup, such action could have… unintended consequences.” He met Jesup’s gaze. “The Khanates’ loyalty to Khan Hawker could be considered weak; some may even question the Aimags’ loyalty to each Khanate.” Sha’s name echoed loudly, though unspoken.

“And one ovKhan messing in the affairs of another Aimag might cause a cascading effect?” Jesup finished the thought.

Petr smacked his palm against the desktop, venting his frustration. For the first time in many years, multiple Aimags worked in close proximity, with dozens of JumpShips and multiple ArcShips canvassing the same tracks of interstellar space, covering the same worlds. He feared for the consequences. More important, he feared what ovKhan Sha Clarke might do.

The vehemence of his attack on the desk made the data cube jump, and once again it snared his attention. Could this have something to do with Sha? With the great endeavor saKhan Mikel Sennet marshaled the entire Spina Khanate to achieve?

“Leave me,” he said abruptly.

Silence was the only reponse; even Jesup knew when to abandon a line of questioning and leave his superior.

For the first time in memory, Petr closed the hatch and dogged it before returning to his chair; his mind barely registered the squeal of springs that usually jogged a mental note to chastise the labor casteman assigned the task of properly maintaining his equipment (promptly forgotten). Picking up the data cube, he weighed it in his hand, as though to assess its value simply by tactile senses, and then slotted it into the reader.

A holographic image immediately materialized and the head of an astonishingly ugly woman spun into view from nothingness. Her lackluster black hair (shorn off with a dull knife?), pimply skin and swarthy complexion made Petr wrinkle his nose, as if he were preparing for an olfactory assault that could not exist. He wanted to dismiss this woman out of hand, but her smoky gray eyes held an intelligence that could not be denied. And her message, and the means of its delivery, intrigued him.

“Salutations, ovKhan Petr Kalasa. You are no doubt wondering how this data cube appeared on your CargoShip, when no DropShip has made planetfall for more than five weeks. And beyond this mystery, you must wonder why I believe such a powerful man would agree to meet with such a lowly person as myself. The fact remains that I have information you will find most …valuable. Information that affects your entire Khanate, and possibly the whole of Clan Sea Fox.

“Oh, I know this sounds like hyperbole, but that is for you to decide. If you wish a meeting, I will be on Adhafera when you arrive.”

The image dissolved into the nothingness from which it came. Petr was intrigued by the appearance, as if by magic, of the cube in his cabin. This accomplishment alone, for such an ugly woman, brought admiration.

But in the brief discussion with Jesup, the idea had blossomed that this somehow tied in with Sha Clarke. Could the surat have managed this? Could Sha truly have sunk to such a level that he would use ugly spheroids to accomplish his work?

He stood abruptly, pulled the data cube from its socket and moved to undog the hatch.

It was time to alter their course.

Clan Sea Fox CargoShip Voidswimmer

Zenith Jump Point, Augustine System

Prefecture VII, The Republic

20 June 3134

The scientists swarmed like microbes, attacking the body of their experiment in their desire (need!) to make their work succeed.

Petr floated just above the deck in the Scientist Quarter of the Voidswimmer, observing the almost frantic activity with satisfaction. They do this for me, for the Clan.

“We barely deploy the sails and already you have the scientists jumping through hoops? Oh great one, what hoops may I jump through?”

Petr turned to find Jesup expertly sliding in next to him, though he engaged his magnetic slips to latch himself to the deck.

“I see you are moving better today, quiaff?” Petr said with a tight smile.

“Aff, oh my most observant ovKhan. A good night’s rest strapped into your bunk will make any bruise disappear as an underarmored vehicle flees before a storm of PPCs.”

Petr’s smile became real under the deluge of sarcasm and feigned sophistry. Jesup did not possess the seasoning to untangle the tight whorls of current in a negotiation, yet he seemed to delight in hiding his true intelligence behind a facade of obviousness. It made him look stupid at times. A lack that, normally, Petr could not stand.

Good thing he makes me laugh, among his other qualities.

A minor tone insistently pierced their conversation. They both turned.

“So the experiment,” Jesup said, more seriously than usual; they both regarded a veritable mountain range of computer terminals, monitors and other objects Petr simply couldn’t identify.

“Proceeding apace.” Petr tasted the breakfast paste he had swallowed too quickly in his desire to arrive early. Be tasting it all day. He grimaced, then brightened as the tone changed slightly. It would begin soon.

“Hard to believe scientist Kif outbid scientist Jonnic for the right to present first.”

Petr shrugged. “Scientist Kif believes he has found the answer that has eluded us.”

“Do you not wonder if he might have pushed too hard, too fast? He has a reputation for recklessness. His attempt could be disastrous.”

Petr locked his emerald eyes with Jesup’s questioning gaze. His aide held up under the stare this time, apparently feeling more himself today. Do you believe that, Jesup, or is this another of your allusions?

“We are all meant to seize our futures, quiaff?” Petr responded. “I laud scientist Kif for seizing the advantage.”

“Aff, ovKhan, but if the shortcuts are too short, his conclusions might lead to the deaths of thousands, even tens of thousands. Perhaps not today, or tomorrow, but eventually.” Jesup paused. “You have not achieved your goal if you sacrifice those you are trying to help. I simply believe we should make sure scientist Kif did not overstep himself.”

Petr found no accusation in Jesup’s eyes, but the words rang a little too close to their conversation yesterday. Recriminations, again? You could never tell with Jesup.

“ovKhan Kalasa, we are ready,” a voice interrupted.

Petr turned to scientist Kif, and the man’s gauntness struck him anew. All Sea Fox Clansmen who spent most of their lives in microgravity tended to have slight physical builds and skinny bodies; only the Clan’s genetic engineering allowed them to compensate for all the degradations the body encountered in such weightless environs. Yet Kif seemed to embody the extreme; if he turned sideways, he just might disappear.