Johanna had been here often enough before; this was where most work was done with the dataset. Usually there was herself and Woodcarver and whoever else needed information. Today was different, not a day to consult the dataset at all: This was Johanna's first council meeting. There were twelve packs in the High Council, and they were all here. Every balcony contained a pack, and there were three on the floor. Johanna knew enough about Tines now to see that for all the empty space, the place was hideously crowded. There was the mind noise of fifteen packs. Even with all the padded tapestries, she felt an occasional buzzing in her head or through her hands from the railing.

Johanna stood with Woodcarver on the largest balcony. When they arrived, Vendacious was already down on the main floor, arranging diagrams. As the packs of the council came to their feet, he looked up and said something to Woodcarver. The Queen replied in Samnorsk: "I know it will slow things down, but perhaps that's a good thing." She made a human laughing sound.

Peregrine Wickwrackscar was standing on the next balcony over, just like some council pack. Strange. Johanna had not yet figured out why, but Scarbutt seemed to be one of Woodcarver's favorites. "Pilgrim, would you translate for Johanna?"

Pilgrim bobbed several heads. "Is, is that okay, Johanna?"

The girl hesitated an instant, then nodded back. It made sense. Next to Woodcarver, Pilgrim spoke better Samnorsk than any of them. As Woodcarver sat down, she took the dataset from Johanna and popped it open. Johanna glanced at the figures on the screen. She's made notes. Her surprise didn't have a chance to register, before the Queen was talking again — this time in the gobble sounds of interpack talk. After a second, Pilgrim began translating:

"Everyone please sit. Hunker down. This meeting is crowded enough as it is." Johanna almost smiled. Pilgrim Wickwrackscar was pretty good. He was imitating Woodcarver's human voice perfectly. His translation even captured the wry authority of her speech.

After some shuffling around, only one or two heads were visible sticking up from each balcony. Most stray thought noise should now be caught in the padding around the balcony or absorbed by the quilted canopy that hung over the room. "Vendacious, you may proceed."

On the main floor, Vendacious stood and looked up in all directions. He started talking. "Thank you," came the translation, now imitating the security chief's tones. "The Woodcarver asked me to call this meeting because of urgent developments in the North. Our sources there report that Steel is fortifying the region around Johanna's starship."

Gobble gobble interruption. Scrupilo? "That's not news. That's what our cannon and gunpowder are for."

Vendacious: "Yes, we've known of the plans for some time. Nevertheless the completion date has been advanced, and the final version will have walls a good deal thicker than we had figured. It also appears that once the enclosure is complete, Steel intends to break apart the starship and distribute its cargo through his various laboratories."

For Johanna the words came like a kick in the stomach. Before there had been a chance: If they fought hard enough, they might recapture the ship. She might finish her parents' mission, perhaps even get rescued.

Pilgrim said something on his own account, translating: "So what's the new deadline?"

"They're confident of having the main walls complete in just under ten tendays."

Woodcarver bent a pair of noses to the keyboard, tapped in a note. At the same time she stuck a head over the railing and looked down at the security chief. "I've noticed before that Steel tends to be a bit over-optimistic. Do you have an objective estimate?"

"Yes. The walls will be complete between eight and eleven tendays from now."

Woodcarver: "We had been counting on at least fifteen. Is this a response to our plans?"

On the floor below, Vendacious drew himself together. "That was our first suspicion, Your Majesty. But… as you know, we have a number of very special sources of information… sources we shouldn't discuss even here."

"What a braggart. Sometimes I wonder if he knows anything. I've never seen him stick his asses out in the field." Huh? It took Johanna a second to realize that this was Pilgrim, editorializing. She glanced across the railing. Three of Pilgrim's heads were visible, two looking her way. They bore an expression she recognized as a silly smile. No one else seemed to react to his comment; apparently he could focus his translation on Johanna alone. She glared at him, and after a moment he resumed his businesslike translation:

"Steel knows we plan to attack, but he does not know about our special weapons. This change in schedule appears to be a matter of random suspicion. Unfortunately we are the worse for it."

Three or four Councillors began talking at once. "Much loud unhappiness," came Pilgrim's voice, summing up. "They're full of 'I knew this plan would never work' and 'Why did we ever agree to attack the Flenserists in the first place'."

Right next to Johanna, Woodcarver emitted a shrill whistle. The recriminations dribbled to a halt. "Some of you forget your courage. We agreed to attack Hidden Island because it has been a deadly threat, one we thought we could destroy with Johanna's cannons — and one that could surely destroy us if Steel ever learns to use the starship." One of Woodcarver's members, crouching on the floor, reached out to brush Johanna's knee.

Pilgrim's focused voice chuckled in her ear. "And there's also the little matter of getting you home and making contact with the stars, but she can't say that aloud to the 'pragmatic' types. In case you haven't guessed, that's one reason you're here — to remind the chuckleheads there's more in heaven than they have dreamed." He paused, and switched back to translating Woodcarver:

"No mistake was made in undertaking this campaign: avoiding it would be as deadly as fighting and losing. So… do we have any chance of getting an effective army up the coast in time?" She jabbed a nose in the direction of a balcony across the room. "Scrupilo. Please be brief."

"The last thing Scrupilo can be is brief — oops, sorry," More editorializing from Peregrine.

Scrupilo stuck a couple more heads into view. "I've already discussed this with Vendacious, Your Majesty. Raising an army, traveling up the coast — those all could be done in well under ten tendays. It's the cannon, and perhaps training packs to use cannon, that is the problem. That is my special area of responsibility."

Woodcarver said something abrupt.

"Yes, Majesty. We have the gunpowder. It is every bit as powerful as Dataset says. The gun tubes have been a much greater problem. Till very recently, the metal cracked at the breech as it cooled. Now I think I have that fixed. At least I have two unblemished guntubes. I had hoped for several tendays of testing — "

Woodcarver interrupted, "— but that is something we can't afford now." She came completely to her feet and looked all around the council room. "I want full-size testing immediately. If it's successful, we'll start making gun tubes as fast as we can." And if not…

Two days later…

The funniest thing was that Scrupilo expected her to inspect the gun tube before he fired it. The pack walked excitedly around the rig, explaining things in awkward Samnorsk. Johanna followed, frowning seriously. Some meters off, mostly hidden behind a berm, Woodcarver and her High Council were watching the exercise. Well, the thing looked real enough. They'd mounted it on a small cart that could roll back into a pile of dirt under the recoil force. The tube itself was a single cast piece of metal about a meter long with a ten-centimeter bore. Gunpowder and shot went in the front end. The powder was ignited through a tiny firehole at the rear.