TNE 02 To Dream of Chaos Read online

  "Why?" Newton 2sked. "Is her performance deficient?"

  "You have to forgive the sergeant," Widget said. "He's one of those who thinks people ought to stay in their assigned place "

  "Well, I'm not fossilized," Gaffer said, "I just think some people are better suited to some things, and some people are better suited to other things."

  "I believe I understand," Newton said, "However, Physic Is an accomplished master of quantum calculus and differential matrices—both key to comprehension of the jump governor."

  The crew at the table absorbed this, then looked at Gaffer.

  "Okay, so maybe she's one of those people who are good at two things."1

  in response, the other humans chuckled, and Deep Six chlttered, expressing the amusement that only Newton didn't share In. Typical of its race, Newton never appea'ed to be amused by anything.

  "You think chat's odd," Widget said, "just ask him nis opinion about women In combat."

  "Now, corporal," Gaffer said, "we have gone over that. My opinion is not that unusual."

  "What Is your opinion, sergeant?" Gyro asked.

  "I happen to think," Caffer said, choosing his words carefully, "thaton the whole, taken as a group, men are much better suited to the infantry than women. Mind you, I didn't say every MOS, just infantry."

  "Hmm," Gyro said. "What about you, Fubar?*

  "I don't have any opinion," Fubar answered, "just doesn't bother me one way or the other."

  'All right, sergeant," Gyro said, "why do you think women aren't suited for the infantry?"

  "Wet!, there's the physicaldemandsofit, for one thing. Widget here's a good trooper—she can do the drill with any man—but that's unusuaf. Most womendon't have the upper body strength to serve as infantry troopers"

  "I am curious," Newton said. "Given the broad range of physical ability among human beings from different planets, and the capacity of battle dress to magnify the strength and stamina of any individual, is it legitimate to generalise about differences In capacity between the human sexes?"

  Since Hivers had only one sex—indeed, they all dropped a larva every month whether they had contact with other Hivers or not—Gyro and Crowbar could only assume the concept of sex was as weird to them as, well, Hivers were to humans.

  "You really have it in for me, don't you?" Caller muttered.

  "Please clarify," Newton requested.

  "Forget it. Anyway, it's not the only Issue. Even today, women are affected by a monthly hormone cycle that can be disruptive to discipline and good order under certain circumstances."

  "Indeed," Deep Six said. "But is it not I rue that the male hormonal cycle fluctuates daily, causing unpredictable variations in aggression and hostility?"

  Gaffer simply glowered at the Impassive Schalli. "I wouldn't know about that fancy stuff. I only know how men fight."

  "You know, it's funny," Crowbar said. "Back when I was a lancer, we came across a high-tech boneyard that tried to deal with that same issue. from the records, we pieced together that they had a big problem with violent crime before the Collapse, so the government put a chemical in the water supply to suppress male hormones."

  "Did it work?" Fubar asked.

  "Well, not exactly Apparently, there was a measurable decrease in violent crime, but then the public found out about the plan and burned down the capital. Kind of makes you wonder how much biology is responsible for aggression."

  Widget and Gyro smiled, but didn't comment.

  "fine," Gaffer said, "I give up. You believe whatever you want to believe."

  "It is an intriguing idea," Newton said. "That by such a simple agency, a prime cause of violence could be removed from human society."

  "I don't like the sound of that," Crowbar said. "You're not plotting anything, are you?"

  "Negative, Crowbar." Newton replied. "As you alluded, human behavior is far too complex to be amenable to such simple chemical manipulation,"

  "Quite so," Deep Six agreed.

  Whether or not the nonhumans were just being polite to their human mates Crowbar couldn't tell, but he didn't pursue the question any further, and the matter was dropped.

  Only Gaffer, mindful of the example of the boneyard, kept a wary eye on Newton.

  t m m The worst thing about being an artist, Coeur believed, was being asked for pictures by your friends; them, their dog, their best friend, etc. But Coeur had taken up painting for her own recreation and tended to discourage such frivolous requests by doing what she'd done with Drop Kick—asking for appropriate payment up front.

  Ye t Coeurwas willing to make an exceptionfor a worthy cause.

  "So," Physic said, stepping Into Coeur's stateroom, "you said the picture was finished?"

  "Actually, it's been finished for a couple of hours," Coeur said, standing up from the chair at her desk, "but I figured I'd let it dry first. You want to see it?"

  "Sure I want to see it."

  "Okay," Coeur said, crossing over to her easel and lifting up the protective flap over die canvas.

  "Wow, that is nice."

  Coeur shrugged, regarding her own painting with a detached and critical eye, A composition in acrylic blue, black and silver, It featured the circular man-wheel symbol of the Arses alongside a Hornet in flight, all above a simple inscription:

  RCS HORNET 10161 CAVE ACULEM

  "Well, I've got to admit," Coeur said, "it Is a bit of a stretch. I usually do landscapes,"

  "Could have fooled me," Physic offered. "I think it's fine."

  "Thanks. You know. I think you're right; it's about time we had a unit patch."

  "Well, I think so," Physic said, "although I've got to admit, I never thought I'd be spending this much time with the Homer. What has it been, about a year since we first came aboard7"

  "About that, yeah. But I suppose there's worse places to spend a year,"

  "Like with my husband?" Physic asked.

  "Hey," Coeur said, raising her hands, "I didn't say it."

  "No, you're right," Physic said. "On balance. It's been a good time."

  Yes, Coeur thought, on balance. But what a weight Physic has on the down side of the balance—all those Hirers she couldn't save, seeing her husband go to prison, having Scissor die In her arms....

  Coeur arrested that thought there, however. Her great regret from the past year was being away from Home; when Scissor died—Scissor, the Hiver who'd offered Coeur command of Hornet in the first place.

  "You know," Physic said, moving closer to examine the painting, "there's only one thing that bothers me about this emblem—the Latin mono I chose."

  "It is supposeo to say 'beware of the sling,' Isn't it?"

  "Yeah, either that or 'beware of her sUng,' but unfortunately, it's been a while since we doctors were required to study Latin."

  Coeur chuckled.

  "Well, look on the bright side—since ifs a dead language, there won't be any Romans to complain about IT"

  "True."

  "So what's the plan from here?" Coeur asked, taking the canvas off its easel and handing it to Physic.

  "Let's see," Physic said, taking the picture. 'The first thing I'll do Is take this over to Newton and have him laser scan it. After that, we'll load the image into a labric emulator and use that to render our patches."

  "Oh, that's too bad. I thought you were going to sew them by hand."

  Physic aimed a dubious expression at Coeur.

  "Yeah, right."

  "Sorry, forgot you had a life. Carry on, doctor."

  Physic offered a courteous salute and then departed, carrying the painting carefully under her arm.

  Since it was 1400 hours when Physic left Coeur"j stateroom, the doctor expected the lower deck forward compartments of Homec to be empty. While Hornet was in the hole, this was the time of day when Gaffer's Marines would be drilling In the loft. Drop Kick's people would be performing maintenance on their vehicles in the hold, Snapshot would be on the bridge, and Gyro would be in the engine room, relieving the sle
eping Crowbar.

  Which is a pity, Physic thought, since I thought up the design for this patch and I'd like to show it off.

  Considering how much work Coeur had put into the painting, though, Physic decided not to take a detour through engineering or the cargo hold and risk damaging the Image. Instead, she proceeded straight-away to the open door of Newton's dimly lit stateroom/workshop. Fascinated by the jump fire visible through Its window, Newton preferred to keep its lighting low to aide in its viewing of the crackling sparks outside.

  "Good," Newton said, turning away from its large in-board window when it heard Physic knock, "I see you have the painting."

  "Yep," Physic said, "fresh from the captain. So, are you ready to scan it?"

  "Actually, no. During our last communication, I neglected to inform you that the shipboard maintenance schedule requires me to inspect the water supply at 141 S hours every day. However, I should be able to complete the task quickly and return in a brief span of minutes to help you scan the Image."

  "Well, I suppose I could do it myself," Physic said, "except I can't read the ideograms on your scanner."

  "Please," Newton said, interposing Itself between its laser scanner and the doctor, "do not attempt to use it yourself, The last human who attempted that burned out a bank of resistors, and it cost me my nest credit for a month to replace them."

  "Oh, well, in that case, maybe I'll just wait for you."

  "A prudent choice," Newton said. "I shall return momentarily."

  And just like that, Newton was off, not so much as offering the human a chair before it left. Association with the Hivers accustomed Physic to such behavior, iiowever, and she invited herself to a seat in a fold-down human chair recessed into the wall opposite the stateroom's giant window, one that Incidentally gave her a view of the port fork corridor Newton had passed into.

  Well, what about that? Physic thought, noting a steaming plate of what appeared to be comdogs on a low table near her chair. Smelling their deep-fried aroma, she remembered she had not yet had lunch, funny that Hivers have acquired a taste for a human tood. ! wonder if he'd mind if t look one?

  She set down the painting so It wouldn't get greasy and reached for one of the corndogs. Although lacking the handle inserted into the human versions, it was otherwise Identical in smell and appearance to the carnival snacks Physic remembered from her youth. Wishing for some mustard, the doctor bit Into the corndog and was pleasantly surprised by the rich flavor. She looked at the inside of the corndog, now cross-sectioned by her bite, ft's filled with cheese or something. That's a nice touch.

  Feeling a little rude at having eaten from Newton's lunch without asking permission, Physic bolted down the remainder, slightly burning the roof of her mouth with the cheesy filling that squirted out. I wonderifthelilling was a human suggestion or o Hiver addition ? Seems kind of frivolous for the Hivers to have done themselves. Ill have to find out from Newton.

  The reappearance of Newton a moment later offered the chance of a direct answer to that question, but, as Physic saw, Newton was not quite done with Its work. The ship's water supply was accessed through a recessed pane! In the corridor adjacent to Newton's stateroom, so she presumed the Hiver was adding some sort of anti-bacteriological agent to the water when it lifted a one-liter bottle to an access port and poured Its contents in.

  And then sue saw Gaffer.

  Unaware, perhaps, that Physic was watching him from the darkness of Newton's room, Gaffer hunkered low oehind the Hp of the nearest bulkhead iris valve—15 meters away—training a small camera on the seemingly oblivious Newton. Gaffer remained there only a moment, dipping back below the lip of the iris valve seconds after Physic spotted him, and the doctor was keen to think she'd been hallucinating until Newton returned to his room and she asked him about it, "Newton," she said, "did you notice that Gaffer was out there taking pictures of you?"

  "Yes," Newton said, setting the empty trnttle on a low table. "He did that yesterday, as well."

  "Well, isn't that kind of strange?"

  "To be honest, doctor, the machinations of the military mind are strange tome. Doubtless, it was part of some tactkal exercise he was running with his troops."

  "Oh, yeah, I hadn't thought of that."

  "A trivial matter, a: any rate," Newton said. "Now let us proceed with the production of our patches."

  "Oh, wait Just a minute," Physic said, putting out a hand to stop Newton. "I was going to ask you about your corndogs. t know I should have asked before I had one, but I'm curious, how did the Hivers wind up aoaing such a peculiarly human food to their diet?"

  "Did you enjoy it?"

  "Yes, I did, thank you."

  "How surprising. Most humans profess to find them disgusting."

  "What's tn them?"

  "Nothing toxic, I assure you. It is simply a variety of parasitic segmented worm, much likeyourTerran leeches, batter-dipped and fried,"

  "Ungh."

  "They arequite fascinating, oneofthe most adaptive creatures I know of. Although introduced to worlds with widely varying biochemistries, they are almost always able to find a niche In the food-chain. Usually they gain entrance to large creatures through vulnerable areas such as the sensory organs, or digestive or reproductive openings. Here they create colonies which live within open lesions, sometimes burrowing deeper to feed on other organs. But when required, They are also able to subsist entirely on carrion or even excrement. And their defensive abilities are impressive as well "

  "No, really, thafsokay," Physic protested, waving her hand to stop Newton's explanation.

  "When threatened, they secrete a sheath of quite aromatic mucus which—"

  Quite in spiteof herself, Physic suddenly threw upon Newton's floor. Immediately mortified by her response, she bent to clean it up.

  "Sorry."

  "That's quite all right," Newton said, keying a note Into Its desktop computer with one hand while operating its translator with another, "In fact, of the six humans I have described this food to, you are the sixth to respond In that identical manner. Although It does make me wonder why the Ithklur never react that way when we tell them what's in the 'corndogs,'"

  "I'm glad to be of service," Physic muttered weakly, but Newton did not appear to hear her, as it stroked furiously at Its computer input spheres.

  Perhaps I overdid it o htUe this time. I wonder it it was the part about the mucus.'

  Physic's incident with the corndog notwithstanding, the ship's patch project proved to be a complete success. Within a day, the colorful round patches were circulated to all hands, and every member of the crew had affixed one to at least one artkle of clothing—usually a vest and body sleeve—by the time Hornet came out of jump at her next destination: Oriflamme.

  Beholding that ancient world for the first time, a world settled so long before, Coeur could not help but think about the common strand of heritage that linked Its people to her own homeworld. Terra. About 3,500 years earlier, a consortium of Terran colonists—primarily Germans and Russians— booted the original inhabitants off the planet, the personnel of a small Vilani outpost, and renamed it Nemyer in honor of their first governor. Now, millennia later, empires had come and gone, but the people of Nemyer remained, carving out a living on the hellish rock they renamed Oriflamme—The Colden Flame—In honor of the founding of the Dawn League.

  Even from 100 diameters out, Coeur and Deep Six on the bridge of Hornet perceived the distinctive geography of the planet. Although only 41 percent of the surface was land, the area appeared greater since most of the land was concentrated In four great continents straddling the equator. In a A S-day orbit around its dim orange sun, Oriflamme was lucky not to be tldally locked, but even so the seasonal healing and cooling of each hemisphere sentwlnd and seacurrents whipping through the straits and channels between the continents, dressing the world in perpetual storm fronts anO making safe travel anywhere a dicey prospect at best.

  It's no wonder, Coeur thought, that 90 percent of th
em were killed when Virus hit, "Receiving the traffic beam," Deep Six said. "Dobroye Downport sends greetings and asks our intentions*

  "Code 77," Coeur answered. "Liaison."

  Deep Six recognized the Coalition request for offlclakontact and relayed It In turn. from 13 million kilometers away, a prompt response would come In nine seconds, &o a delay of almost five minutes suggested urgent off-channel communications being executed—the famous red tape often alluded to by Snapshot.

  "Hornet, your code has been processed. Please disregard the general traffic beam and follow the beam at I 20.6 megahertz to the LordTechnarch's field at Dobroye Downport."

  "Understood, Oriflamme Control. We will comply. Hornet out,"

  Deep Six then switched off the radio set, clearing the HUD beforenis nose to work on the requisite course correction. It was elementary work beside the computation of a Jump plot, and he finished It in seconds so Coeur could promptly execute the new approach.

  "The Lord Technarch's field," Deep Six said. ") am impressed."

  "Are you really Impressed," Coeur asked, "or are you just practicing your human idioms?"

  "No, I am impressed."

  ' f t Just after coming down from orbit. Hornet passed across a storm-wracked continental realm of rocks and wasteland without so much as a single city evident.

  "That's Thron Desteufels," Snapshot said, looking at the same sensor images as Gyro and her mates on the bridge, "the Devil's Throne."

  "Sounds pleasant," Gyro replied. "That where you used to live?"

  "No, nobody lives up here. i used to live In Dobroye, up ahead."

  Like Aubaine's Brusman, Dobroye Starport salon Its world's equator to give the advantage of rotational momentum to launching craft. That location, and a sheltered harbor for the benefit of sea traffic, made the city of 30 million a natural hub of commerce and government, but it had its drawbacks as well. Daytime temperatures routinely exceeded 60° C, and access to the rest of West Zentrum continent was tenuous, blocked to the north by a dense rain forest and to the south by the granite peaks of Sredinnyy Khrebet, the Central Range-