A Deepness in the Sky

"You could find out, Ezr. If this banquet has fooled them, you could demand some backbone. I know, I know: You're an apprentice; there are rules and customs and blah blah blah. But your Familyowns this expedition!"

Ezr hunched forward. "Just a part of it." This was also the first time she'd ever made anything of the fact. Until now both of them—Ezr, at least—had been afraid of acknowledging that difference in status. They shared the deep-down fear that each might simply be taking advantage of the other. Ezr Vinh's parents and his two aunts owned about one-third of the expedition: two ramscoops and three landing craft. As a whole, the Vinh.23 Family owned thirty ships scattered across a dozen enterprises. The voyage to Triland had been a side investment, meriting only a token Family member. A century or three down the line he would be back with his family. By then, Ezr Vinh would be ten or fifteen years older. He looked forward to that reunion, to showing his parents that their boy had made good. In the meantime, he was years short of being able to throw his weight around. "Trixia, there's a difference between owning and managing, especially in my case. If my parents were on this expedition, yes, they would have a lot of clout. But they've been ‘There and Back Again.' I am far more an apprentice than an owner." And he had the humiliations to prove it. One thing about a proper Qeng Ho expedition, there wasn't much nepotism; sometimes just the opposite.

Trixia was silent for a long moment, her eyes searching back and forth across Ezr's face. What next? Vinh remembered well Aunt Filipa's grim advice about women who attach themselves to rich young Traders, who draw them in and then think to run their lives—and worse, run the Family's proper business. Ezr was nineteen, Trixia Bonsol twenty-five. She might think she could simply make demands.Oh Trixia, please no.

Finally she smiled, a gentler, smaller smile than usual. "Okay, Ezr. Do what you must...but a favor? Think on what I've said." She turned, reaching up to touch his face and gently stroke it. Her kiss was soft, tentative.

TWO

The Brat was waiting in ambush outside Ezr's quarters.

"Hey, Ezr, I watched you last night." That almost stopped him.She'stalking about the banquet. The Trading Committee had piped it back to the fleet.

"Sure, Qiwi, you saw me on the vid. Now you're seeing me in person." He opened his door, stepped inside. Somehow the Brat stuck so close behind that now she was inside too. "So what are you doing here?"

Qiwi was a genius at taking questions the way she wanted them: "We got the same scut-work shift starting in two thousand seconds. I thought we could go down to the bactry together, trade gossip."

Vinh dived into the back room, this time shutting her out. He changed into work fatigues. Of course, the Brat was still waiting when he emerged.

He sighed. "I don't have any gossip."Damned if I'll repeat what Trixiasaid.

Qiwi grinned triumphantly. "Well,I do. C'mon." She opened the room's outer door and gave him an elegant zero-gee bow out into the public corridor. "I wanna compare notes with you about what you saw, but really, I bet I got a lot more. The Committee had three povs, including at the entrance—better views than you had." She bounced down the hall with him, explaining how often she had reviewed the videos, and telling of all the people she had gossiped with since.

Vinh had first met Qiwi Lin Lisolet back in pre-Flight, in Trilander space. She'd been an eight-year-old bundle of raw obnoxiousness. And for some reason she'd chosen him as the target of her attention. After a meal or training session, she'd rush up behind him and slug him in the shoulder—and the angrier he got, the more she seemed to like it. One good punch returned would have changed her whole outlook. But you can't slug an eight-year-old. She was nine years short of the mandatory crew minimum. The place for children was before voyages and after—not in crews, especially crews bound for desolate space. But Qiwi's mother owned twenty percent of the expedition....The Lisolet.17 Family was truly matriarchal, originally from Strentmann, far away across Qeng Ho space. They were strange in both appearance and custom. A lot of rules must have been broken, but little Qiwi had ended up on the crew. She had spent more years of the voyage awake than any but the Watch crew. A large part of her childhood had passed between the stars, with just a few adults around, often not even her own parents. Just thinking of that was enough to cool a lot of Vinh's irritation. The poor little girl. And not so little anymore. Qiwi must be fourteen years old. And now her physical attacks had been mostly replaced by verbal ones—a good thing considering the Strentmannian high-grav physique.