Eye of the Ocean Book 3 Ji'jin Station

Eye of the Ocean – Book 3: Ji’Jin Station
blue for the iris, yellow haunted the shadings of his skin like wrinkles in the color.
“What's your name?” she asked.
“Awillykh.”
“You know the Xintan language. Alisim?” He nodded. “How did you come to be
here?”
“I was a medic on an Empire merchant ship. A short time here, a long time
there... the years passed too quickly.”
“A ship with a Zimmer pilot?”
He nodded again, slower than before. “And?” she prompted.
“The ship I was on crossed a Wolf ship, and the Wolf ship, a Spann backed
Patrol ship with some Zimmer crew.”
“And you have no affiliation?”
“Freeborn crew, Lady. Only a few Zimmer to the number of Pinnet.”
There were enough Pinnet at the Station where she had grown up that she
knew they didn't care about the difference between Clan and freeborn. Or even
notice, she thought, unless such a distinction was important to the outcome they
wished. A tool of the Spann as well. “Do you follow the Lady Cult?”
“In my youth. Belief can sustain; I found it helpful. Perhaps it is my age, but I
find it less so now. Or find the gods less needing worship than before.”
“Or that there is no difference between the two beliefs?”
“The difference is what it is made to be... and to the freeborn the difference is
profound. Freedom through the simple act of a gift.”
“Kori.” He nodded. “A gift that can be returned,” she added, watching for his
reaction.
“As the Lord has said, you will be allowed to fly.”
“And who do you answer to here?” she asked.
“The Lady Oimit a'Genn d'Zimmer. A Commander in the Be'li'kini of the
Alliance.”
The Spann Intelligence Circle. She opened to the Net - allowed now - and her
rank was there. Command Level ship's Net. Deliberately distancing herself, she
let the orders from the Be'li'kini filter down in a slow trickle through her mind. Or
did the very casualness of her actions make its own distraction? In parts, she
recognized Councilor Ti'omma, the flavor of the way it spoke Trade Basic.
Then one more order, a different source and a different language, but no less
binding. She distanced herself further. Could she hide forever, hidden in that
distance? The thought made her laugh. Awillykh, little Allykh, the old freeborn
medic, didn't draw away at the wildness of the sound she made.
“Are you past fear?” she whispered, shy of speaking words after shouting
madness disguised as laughter.
“Not fear. Past a great many things, Lady, but not fear.”
Laurel Hickey www.2morrow.bc.ca