Phone Tag

"Hand on my waist, what have I here? This is my rope-latcher, my mama dear. Rope-latcher, head-visor, safe-gas-can, diggy-diggy-do, that's what I learned in my school."

-from "Safety Equipment", spacer children's song

The First Star was a very large, very empty ship. Even with Sylva and Kino around, it had been large and empty. Now, it felt like if Yan didn't make an effort to seek out Iri or Chanam, she could go literal days without seeing another person.

She spent a lot of time in a few specific haunts. There was the workshop, where she spent hour after hour folding pages and sewing binding for her books. It was mindless work, but she got very good at it— far better than Iri or Chanam when either of them stopped by to help her. The stack of books in the corner grew taller and taller, until she ran out of paper and had to stop. She worked in the greenhouse, too, of course, making sure that they weren't going to starve. And she spent the requisite amount of hours on the bridge, jumping the ship around almost aimlessly. When she was tired, she would retreat to Halen's old room, where she would curl up on the bed and catnap, not even underneath the covers. It felt too lonely to spend time in the room that she shared with Sylva, since Sylva wasn't around. She also spent a lot of time in the engine room, meditating alone. She didn't understand why, but she found it comforting in a way that few other places on the ship did. Perhaps it was simply that the stardrive was the heart of the ship, her ship, and it was the lifeline that kept them safe and tied to the rest of the universe.

Occasionally, she would make up some task outside, some radar foil that needed to be fixed, or a light that needed to be changed, or a hairline crack in a foundation that needed to be welded, and Yan would suit up and go out to take care of the problem. She would drift untethered in space next to the First Star, listen to the sound of her own breathing in her helmet, and look out at the stars. Iri and Chanam seemed to find it shocking that she could enjoy going out of the ship (certainly Iri always found EVA stressful), but Yan's spacer heritage made her fear the void of space in the same way that a fisherman's daughter might fear the ocean. As long as nothing immediately dangerous was happening in the vicinity, space was a calm place, and predictable.

Today, Yan had decided that it was time to replace a viewing camera lens that had been nicked by a micrometeoroid, rendering the image it transmitted back to the bridge fuzzy and annoying. It had been low on the list of priorities, but Yan had wanted out, so out she went. The camera in question was on the "North" pole of the First Star, as defined by the rotation of the gravity ring appearing to be clockwise when standing at that pole.

She left the airlock with one of the heavy canvas bags that spacers used tethered to her waist, and the First Star's comprehensive repair manual strapped to her left arm for easy reference. She didn't bother tying herself down as she hauled herself hand-over-hand along the ladder that stretched from the airlock all the way up and down the sides of the ship. Her uncle would have yelled at her for neglecting safety procedures, but he wasn't here to yell at her, and Yan was the captain now. Besides, she had both the gas canister on her back and the power for emergency propulsion . Either one would have saved her if she had accidentally pushed herself away from the side of the ship, which she didn't do. She was lithe and graceful as she swooped away from the airlock, enjoying the feeling of acceleration that came when she pulled herself along the handrail. It was a long trip up, and she was slightly out of breath by time she reached the junction where the camera was housed.

"You're out of shape, Yan," Halen said in her ear, sounding far clearer than he would have if she had been speaking to him over the radio. She could imagine him, just out of her sightline, in the spot just blocked off by the edge of her visor.

"Shut up, will you?" Yan said aloud, muttering to herself. Her own voice sounded flat and dull inside her helmet. "The suit is heavy."

"Do you think I don't know exactly how heavy a space suit is?" Halen asked, the amusement clear in his voice. "I was a pirate too, you know."

"Oh, spare me," Yan said.

"What will it take for me to get you to start working out again?"

"Locking me in a tiny little box where I have nothing better to do."

"And you haven't done that to yourself?"

"You of all people should know that a ship is not a prison," Yan said. "And I'm doing things. Hold this if you're going to be here annoying me." She knew very well that, being immaterial, Halen was not going to hold her bag for her, but it would stay basically where she put it, so she untied it from her waist and put it out of sight at her side. She fished out a multitool to start unscrewing the bolts that held down the broken camera.

"You can see Emerri from here," Halen said as Yan worked, pulling out screw after screw.

"I'm aware. I was the one who charted this course." She didn't look up at Emerri's star, which she could locate with ease if she needed to. It was quite distant, but easily identifiable by locating the ultra-bright binary system closest to it.

"What course are you charting, Yan?" Halen asked. He sounded very sad, and Yan paused work on the camera for a moment.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm taking it day by day."

"Do you actually want this?"

"Name a single thing in my life that I actually wanted," Yan muttered. "Just a single, solitary thing."

"Now you're just being self pitying for no reason."

"And you're just saying my own thoughts back to me," Yan said. "So tell me something I don't know."

"You have the power to make choices," Halen said. "If you don't want to be here, making this choice, you could make another one."

"Don't give me that," Yan said. She couldn't believe she was here arguing with the Halen-in-her-head again.

"It's true."

"You're not going to convince me to go running back to you," Yan said.

"Why not?"

"I'm not the only one who makes choices around here," Yan said. "And I'm not talking about, I don't know, Kino or whatever. I'm talking about you. The real you."

"And what would you want the real me to do?" Halen asked, amusement in his voice.

Yan ignored him for a second, used the power to summon over the replacement camera lens, and installed it with fresh screws. She sent the used screws tumbling backwards towards Halen, and imagined them hitting his visor with satisfying little clunks. They drifted away into space, garbage debris that would float around until the heat death of the universe.

"You haven't answered my question," Halen said. "What would you want me to do, if you had your way?"

"Tell Sandreas to stop the Empire from killing people. He'd listen to you."

"It's funny to me that you think so."

"Is that you admitting that he doesn't have a soul?"

"You're sounding a lot like Kino."

Yan rubbed the camera lens with a piece of microfiber cloth, making sure it was clean, and began to put all her tools back into her bag.

"I don't want to be against you. You could make different choices."

"Unfortunately," Halen said. "You are against me, and neither of us are going to change the courses we've set."

"I know."

"And what is that going to mean for the both of us?" Halen asked.

"I don't know, and I don't want to find out," Yan muttered. She tied the bag back around her waist, and began the trek back towards the airlock.

"You're going to have to eventually," Halen called after her. It didn't make any sense that his voice receded behind her, but it was a detail that her mind added to the illusion nonetheless. Yan didn't turn back around to look at him.

Back inside the First Star, Yan stripped off her spacesuit and returned the equipment to its proper place in the tool closet. She headed up to the bridge, intent on checking that her new camera was working properly.

She was surprised to find Chanam there, sitting in her captain's seat.

"Out of my chair," she grumbled.

He looked over at her. "Who were you talking to?" he asked.

Yan felt her face grow hot. "I don't know what you're talking about," she lied.

"Your radio was on," Chanam said. "While you were outside. I heard you talking."

"It was nobody," Yan said.

"Nobody?"

"Look, I know you're here to spy on me," Yan said. "But there obviously wasn't anybody out there. I talk to myself sometimes. Is that illegal?"

Chanam studied her intently. "No."

"Great. Don't tell Iri."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want her to worry about me."

"She already does."

"And you're the expert on Iri now?"

"Why are you in a bad mood?" Chanam asked. "Did you break the camera?"

Yan frowned. She was being snippy at Chanam because she had had a bad conversation with her own brain. It wasn't fair to take out on on him; mainly because he was just a kid. She recited part of a prayer in her head and took a deep breath before she said anything else. "I'm in a terrible mood for no good reason," she said. "If you don't want to have me be in a bad mood at you, you should probably leave."

Chanam shrugged. He didn't leave exactly, but he stood up from her seat and let her check the camera. He watched her do it, and the contemplative look on his face made Yan unsure if she wanted to throttle him or hug him.

Iri found her later, after dinner. The three of them had eaten together, but afterwards Yan had escaped into her own solitary orbit, this time into the greenhouse, where she mopped the floor, almost mindlessly, looking for something to do with herself. She pulled leaves off of random herbs in the herb plot and chewed on them every time she made a pass by that area.

Yan didn't notice Iri come in, not until Iri, leaning against the wall and silently watching her, caught in the corner of her eye.

"What?" Yan asked, leaning on the mop and looking at her.

"You know, I didn't think that the captain would stoop to swabbing the floors, especially when we have robots that do that," Iri said, pointing at the cleaning robot that was charging in its dock in the corner.

"I spilled a bag of dirt," Yan said, which was a complete lie. "Just wanted to clean it up."

"Ah," Iri said, and Yan couldn't tell if Iri believed her or not. "You know, there are probably better ways to get your nervous energy out."

"I'm not nervous."

"I haven't seen you this high strung since..." Iri paused for a moment, as if thinking back in time. "Oh, wait, nevermind, you're always like this."

Yan frowned, scrubbed the floor a little more aggressively. "Did Chanam tell you that I'm acting crazy?"

"Yan, I do not need a spy to tell me that. Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"Are we still on track to plant that ansible, finally?"

"I guess," Yan said.

"I know Malstaire put a bad taste in your mouth, but is there some other reason it's taking us this long to do it?" Iri asked.

Yan didn't respond right away, first picking up the mop bucket and dumping the dirty water down the industrial drain in the corner. She leaned the mop and bucket against the wall, then sat, perched on the edge of one of the empty planting tables, looking across at Iri.

"I am not really in a hurry to talk to Jeepak," Yan said. "I assume by now he has some sort of instructions left for us, or whatever."

"Well, the longer you wait, the less good it's going to look on his end. Even with Chanam--"

"Yeah..." Yan ran a hand over her hair,finding that her forehead was unexpectedly sweaty. She hadn't realized quite how hot and humid the greenhouse was until this moment. "I do want them to trust us, and I do want to do things, but..."

"You can't rely on Kino to have all the impetus," Iri said. "You have to take charge."

"I'm not," Yan said. "I just hate it all."

"Love it or hate it, we take the cards we're given."

"I guess I just miss Sylva," Yan said.

Iri laughed aloud.

"What's so funny?"

"You've been without her for longer."

"I missed her then, too." Yan swung her legs, kicking her heels against the struts that held up the planting table. "But I didn't used to have to worry that she was in danger."

"I wouldn't worry too much. Kino's competent, if nothing else."

"Your voice does not inspire optimism."

"And I also know better than anyone else that Sylva can handle herself. It's probably good that she's getting to stretch her wings a little."

"I guess."

"We'll be meeting up with them again soon." Iri paused in thought for a minute. "Honestly, if we time it right, we go somewhere, plant the ansible, that will leave us just enough time to get back to Xuanhuan."

"I guess I should stop dragging my feet on that, then."

"It will at least give you a destination," Iri agreed. "You know, maybe you should try to learn a new skill."

"Such as?"

"Wouldn't it be nice if you knew how to make stardrives?"

Yan hopped off the table. "There is no way in God's universe I'm going to fuck with a stardrive, Iri."

"Halen did it, and he was Chanam's age."

"Halen is the exception that proves the rule," Yan said.

"I don't know why you're so opposed to the idea."

"You didn't go to the Academy--"

"And I thank God every day for that. It only turns out crazies."

"Sure, whatever. But they tell you in graphic detail exactly what can happen if you fuck up while making a stardrive."

Iri shrugged, seemingly unaffected. "I don't think you'd fuck up."

"It's the kind of thing that I have nightmares about," Yan said. Or vivid hallucinations about, but she didn't say that.

"It would be good. You could be an asset, making ships."

"Iri, think about it. If it's that important and easy, all those other sensitives we met, and Jeepak, why aren't they churning out stardrives left and right?"

"Maybe they are, and you just don't see it."

Yan frowned, silent.

"There are a whole lot of pirates out there, after all," Iri said. "A surprising number of ships. You wouldn't think that they're all stolen from the Guild."

"I'm not going to," Yan said.

"You spend so much time in the engine room, I figured you were at least trying to see how the thing worked," Iri said. "Well, whatever, it's not that urgent. It was just a suggestion to try to make you less, you know, depressed."

"I'm not depressed."

"And I'm not your friend, who cares about you, and has seen you in various non depressed states."

Yan laughed a little at that. "Fair."

"Go jump us closer to where we're setting that ansible." Iri walked over behind Yan, put her hands on the small of her back, and started to push her towards the door of the greenhouse.

"Stop, that tickles!" Yan said, but Iri just wiggled her fingers on Yan's sides more until Yan couldn't help but move, laughing and running to get away from her.

They eventually set the ansible down on a nameless moon orbiting a gas giant in a completely uninhabited star system. They should have done that in the first place, Yan supposed, but Malstaire's relatively central locale and existing infrastructure, in case they had needed to stay in place with the ansible for a while, had been tempting. As it was, though, it was hard enough to find a system that was close to places in the Empire where Yan might want to take the First Star, yet completely uninteresting for both pirates and official mining operations. This barren moon would have to do.

She and Iri had gone down to the surface to set it up and, for once, it had gone without a hitch. Yan had been slightly nervous about leaving Chanam alone on the First Star, but he had looked at her with such a deadpan expression when she brought up the concept of him stealing the ship that she had let him stay by himself. Regardless, he hadn't done anything except dutifully open the First Star's bay doors for them when they returned.

The ansible had a very weak radio relay attached to it, so they were able to stay in orbit around the moon to use the ansible, rather than being forced to descend to its surface every time they wanted to receive or send a message.

To begin, Yan had sent off a message to the other ansible they were told to stay in communication with.

Dark Hands,

This is Yan BarCarran. We have set up our ansible, as you can tell. Its location, should you need it, is in the attached starchart. Here is our status update. I'll make it brief.

We are investigating ways in which to destabilize the Empire, and testing several of them out on a small scale. It is our belief that the Empire has three main pillars of strength: the Fleet, the Guild, and the Imperial government itself. If any one of them were to fall, they would destabilize the rest of the two, at least enough to leave a power vacuum. Planetary governments are, in general, too weak and disparate to bother with, though if they could be united together in some sort of mass opposition, they would be formidable. I personally believe, due to my past experiences, that the Guild is the weakest link in this chain.

To this effect, we contacted Yuuni Olms, the former apprentice to the former Guildmaster, Ungarti Vaneik. Olms has no official power, but she has a formidable reputation within the Guild. We asked her if she would consider calling for a vote of no confidence in the current Guildmaster, Wil Vaneik, and, by extension, his puppeteer, Nomar Thule. We are not currently able to receive news from the Guild, due to staying in hiding most of the time, but we have reason to believe that planting this seed of doubt within the Guild could cause cracks in its stability and power. It depends on the choices that Yuuni Olms makes, and how Nomar Thule chooses to respond to them. In any event, attacking the Empire through the Guild is a sure way to cause mass confusion, but a slow one, and one most easily disrupted by the official power.

If the Guild staggers, it might be difficult to leverage that into direct power against the Empire, but it could be used to compel individual planets, suffering from trade disruptions, to rise up. It would take a delicate touch, and a lot of events falling into place, but we've already seen this happen on small scales in the past. While I was still employed by the Imperial government, I resolved a trade dispute on Olar, which was quickly escalating into a planetary crisis. If that sort of thing happened on ten, twenty planets at once, it would require massive (military) intervention from the Empire. I have no real desire to start a civil war, but if planets stop paying their Imperial taxes, that will put a strain on the Fleet, which will weaken them, which could allow them to be defeated at Tyx III or Olkye. It's a complicated string of events, and we have not put anything into action, merely dipped a finger into still water to see what ripples may form.

We have also begun to spread, through the power, a small collection of writings intended to stir up distrust in the Imperial government. Currently, we have only been able to distribute a small number of them on Hanathue, but we believe if they fall into the hands of Fleet soldiers, they may be able to do some good, in terms of breaking through some of the Fleet programming. It's a long shot, but I figured it couldn't hurt to do.

As for the Imperial government itself, it is the sturdiest of all. If the Fleet were to turn against it, that would cause it to crumble, or if individual planets banded together in a mass revolt, that would loose its hold on the universe significantly, but as it is, I see no way to take power from it, short of an attack on Emerri and Stonecourt itself. For many reasons, I am hesitant to suggest anything of the sort.

Aside from that, we are awaiting your instructions.

Chanam has attached an encrypted message to you, which I have not read. I presume it is his report on us, as you so kindly sent along a spy. While I am glad to have him, if you should want him back, let us know and we can return him to you.

As we will not be in this region of space often, it may be difficult for you to communicate with us. As such, we will continue operating as independent entities. We will try to check messages at this ansible as often as possible, but I have no guarantees as to how often that can or will be. We will await your reply here for a few days, but after that, we are en route to Xuanhuan station, where we have a meeting planned.

Please keep us informed of your status and instructions.

Yours in shared struggle,

Yan BarCarran

They waited for more than a day between when they set the ansible up and when the message arrived. When it did come, it was clearly canned, set to repeat every once in a while until Yan's group had put their ansible up to receive it.

Mejia, it began, and Yan felt a little awkward reading Kino's mail, when Kino wasn't around to read it. But it was unencrypted, and they were awaiting orders, so that was what it was going to be.

Mejia,

We are beginning to wonder why it has been so long since we were last in contact with you. Although our other sources within the Empire do not indicate that you have turned on us or become entangled (yet), it seems odd that you have chosen not to set up your ansible as you were instructed to.

A word of warning for you.

We have agents in contact with certain parts of the Guild. They report that your ship is being actively pursued by one of theirs. We are aware that your ship is far faster than any Guild ship, you may wish to be wary and not remain in one place for too long.

We expect a report on your progress and thoughts. Until you hear from us again, your instructions to observe rather than interfere still stand. We are preparing something, and may need you in position to assist.

The rest of the letter went on, providing a small update to the situation on Olkye, which Yan was grateful for, but no other substantiate information. She couldn't really blame the Dark Hands for that; after all, it was clear that they still didn't trust her at all. It was frustrating, though, and it only added to Yan's sense of impotency. She didn't like wandering around space being told to do nothing.

She also didn't like the sound of someone pursuing them. She went over the letter with Iri in great detail, pulling out the relevant information. They sat across from each other in the sterile kitchen of the First Star, warming their hands on hot coffee mugs.

"Do the Dark Hands not know about the Guild's supership?" was the first question that Yan asked Iri.

"They either don't know, or don't want us to know that they do know," Iri said. "Though you'd think that they'd warn us that a fast ship is on our tail, rather than just any ship."

Yan rubbed her temples. "I don't like trying to dissect things like that."

"Neither do I. I guess I should ask-- do you believe that Jeepak would set you up, try to arrange the situation, in order to get you killed?"

"I feel like we're all more valuable to him than that," Yan said. "Plus if we die, Chanam dies, and there's probably someone out there who cares about him."

"If we were really that valuable, wouldn't we be doing more?"

"It's a waiting game until they give us more instructions," Yan mumbled. "I guess."

"And if Chanam were that important to them, they wouldn't have sent him to us with the risk that he could become some sort of sacrifice for their cause."

"He could have become that just as easily back with them," Yan said. She hesitated a moment, then yelled out, "Hey, Chanam, since you're probably listening in on this: we're not trying to get you killed, okay?"

"Nice," Iri said. "Though you really don't have to be that paranoid."

"Doesn't hurt. If I were him, I would be listening in on us."

"That's fair," Iri said.

"And don't tell me that you didn't used to spy on me incessantly."

"That was my job!" Iri protested.

Yan laughed a little. "I know." She sighed, then, and refocused her attention. "Does this change our plans?" she asked.

"You're the captain."

"And I'm asking your advice."

"We should probably go back to jumping as soon as possible, every time."

"Yeah." Yan frowned, as that would mean more interruptions to her already shattered sleep schedule.

"And we should probably leave here without waiting for a reply," Iri said. "Who knows how long it will be until Jeepak gets back to us."

"I really have no desire to hear from him."

"That's understandable."

"Does our meeting point at Xuanhuan change because of this?" Yan asked.

"It shouldn't," Iri said.. "After all..."

"Yeah." If they didn't meet back up at the prescribed time, it would become far, far harder to find Kino and Sylva in the vastness of the universe. "I'll go start us jumping, then," Yan said.

"Good plan."