SOUND AND FURY
by Mary Robinette Kowal
The hum of the ship engines sent a vibration up through the soles of Jela Dedearian’s feet. It was always more pronounced near the engine room. By god, she was exhausted. All she wanted was to curl up with her cat and a good novel, but this shift was never going to end.
She rubbed her face with both hands and leaned against the wall of the shuttle bay for a moment. “All right, Okeke. Let’s check the restraints.”
Okeke nodded, her locs bobbing around her cheeks. “Checking giant robot now.”
“Diplomatic Personal Surrogate.”
Okeke snorted. “Yeah. That’s totally what I meant.”
“Obviously.” The captain would have their asses if she caught them talking shit about the mission, but goddamn it. . . . Even if Jela had agreed with the Consortium of Worlds’ expansion policy, Diplomat Foenicul made it damned hard to be respectful.
“Hey . . . Chief. I got this.” Okeke straightened from the restraint strap she was testing. “You can go on to bed.”
“Oh, believe me. I have zero doubts about you. It’s just that, bless her heart, Diplomat Foenicul has expressed that she will be more comfortable if the chief engineer is involved.” She widened her eyes and adopted a too-innocent expression. “Because clearly, I’m the only one on the whole ship who knows how to tie down a giant robot.”
“She’s not even in here.”
“But she will be.” Jela massaged the nagging ache in her forehead. “Believe me, the moment y’all deploy to the surface I have a date with my bed and my cat.”
“How’s Sadie doing?”
“Deeply annoyed.” All of the straps were fine. There was no point in her checking them, except that Guadalupe Foenicul insisted on having “the best,” which meant that Jela had been working double shifts in order to do the work she actually needed to do, in addition to the busywork that the diplomat required. And for what? So they could bring another planet into the fold? “How about you? Adika okay with you going to the planet?”
“As long as I bring him back a souvenir, he’ll forgive anything. And by souvenir, I mean a rock. That child . . . his rock collection is going to be the envy of geologists across the galaxy.”
“Maybe he can negotiate mining rights for—”
The doors to the cargo bay opened and Diplomat Foenicul fluttered in, followed by her assistant and Captain Afaeaki. Her gossamer wings kept her at eye level with the captain, even if her feet were a good meter away from the ground. The captain had her lips so firmly set that it suggested she was less than happy. At least Jela wasn’t the only member of the senior staff who was being asked to do work below her pay grade. It was just one mission. Jela just had to keep reminding herself of that. It was only one mission and if she weren’t doing it, someone else would be feeding the insatiable maw of the Consortium.
“Ah! Chief Engineer Dedearian. Are we ready?”
First of all, this was an hour before departure was scheduled. Second . . . We? As if Jela was going anywhere near the surface. “Yes, sir. You’ll be in good hands with Lieutenant Okeke.”
“Excellent.” She steepled her fingers together, as if she were about to begin a sermon. “This is a bold new era for sentient rapport in the cosmos. I hope that . . .”
Jela smiled and nodded, completely tuning out Foenicul’s speech. It would have been nice to have been wrong about that one, but Foenicul was sadly predictable. Didn’t matter. What mattered was that the Consortium of Worlds needed to establish a base on this planet, ostensibly for “mining rights,” but really because they needed a foothold in the system. And as much as Foenicul got on Jela’s nerves, she had an impressive track record for successful negotiations. Even if this one did involve a giant robot, because “the natives have an unconscious bias related to stature.”
As soon as the robot was off her ship, Jela could go collapse and Sadie would sit on her back and make biscuits into the sore muscles under her shoulder blades, and then she would do her damnedest never to go near a diplomatic mission again. Please god, let the launch go smoothly.
* * *
Jela walked down the corridor to her cabin with one hand trailing along the wall. Not because she was so tired that she might fall over, but because she was almost that tired. Her comm unit pinged.
The aggressively cheery tone sent an ice pick in through her ear to land just behind her eyes. She stopped in the middle of the hall and squeezed her eyes shut. The stupid giant robot was off her ship, and she just wanted to go to sleep.
On her wrist comm, the captain’s name showed clearly. No ignoring this one. She tapped the comm. “Dedearian here.”
“Might I ask you to come to the bridge?” Captain Afaeaki sounded preternaturally calm. The only time she got that formal was when the shit had hit the fan, blown through it, and spattered on the wall.
Jela reversed course, stalking back down the corridor to the lift. “On my way. Can you update me for what I’ll find?”
“The controls for the Diplomatic Personal Surrogate are not connecting properly. Diplomat Foenicul thought that you might have some thoughts.”
“Can you specify what ‘not connecting properly’ means?”
“I am not an engineer, but I will endeavor to do so.”
Jela winced. The captain was good and pissed now but probably had Diplomat Foenicul standing over her shoulder. “Thanks. I appreciate any information.”
“The planet is demonstrating some unusual atmospheric disturbance. The current speculation is that it is interfering with the signal.”
That was so not her department. Jela slapped the control on the elevator panel. “What did Conteh say about it?”
“He made several attempts to rectify the situation before Diplomat Foenicul requested you.”
“I’ll look at giving a signal boost and . . .” The captain would care less about that shit. “It’ll be fine. I’m on the lift. Be on the bridge in three. Dedearian out.”
As the doors closed, she pressed the control for the bridge and then leaned against the wall. The hum and movement of the elevator made her light-headed. She closed her eyes, just for a moment.
The hiss of the doors opening made her straighten. Jela tugged her uniform shirt down as she walked onto the bridge. Conteh, the communications officer, caught her gaze and rolled his eyes. He knew his stuff and had probably tried every frequency adjustment possible. Jela wouldn’t insult him by going through any of the things that would be in his arsenal.
Captain Afaeaki’s posture might have been carved out of granite. Her jaw was set in an unforgiving line, and when she turned from Diplomat Foenicul, Jela paused to give a crisp salute. She was rewarded by a very slight lift of the captain’s eyebrow. Good. At least she knew how much horseshit this was.
“Chief Engineer Dedearian. Thank you for your prompt appearance.”
Full titles, was it? All right, then. Freaking diplomats. “Captain Afaeaki, I await your orders.”
“If you could please assist the diplomat?” She gestured to Diplomat Foenicul, who had a console set up on the bridge. Jela had made the argument that the shuttle bay would be better for the console since it was closer to engineering and wouldn’t be in the captain’s way, but it was apparently not right for . . . reasons.
“Certainly. Let’s see what we can do to boost the signal.”
* * *
After her third trip down to the engine room, which was exactly why she had suggested the shuttle bay as being a better location for the console, Jela had exhausted her repertoire of tricks. Except one. And she didn’t want to offer that, because she damn well knew who was going to get assigned to the duty. Besides, if the mission just happened to fail due to “unsual atmospheric disturbance,” that wouldn’t be on her. She straightened from beneath the console and wiped her hands off on a rag. “No luck. Any chance we can wait for the storm to pass?”
Diplomat Foenicul sliced her hand through space to negate the possibility. “The Krowrehto leaders are expecting us, and they will have seen the shuttle land.”
Letting out a sigh, Jela tucked the rag back into her tool kit. The Krowrehto leaders had been fed a pack of horseshit about how the Consortium would make their world better, when it would just strip their resources for the capital. Just like it had done to her own homeworld. “The only thing we haven’t tried is putting up a satellite antenna on the surface to boost the signal.”
“Perfect!”
“But . . .” Jela caught the captain’s gaze and waited until she had joined them. “But the more reliable course of action would be to send the control console to the surface.”
“Alas. We cannot risk them seeing my petite nature. But you have given me hope.”
Of course. Because that would let the “natives” see that the Consortium was lying to them from the very beginning. And that was not something that Jela could voice.
Fluttering higher, Diplomat Foenicul turned her palms up in thanksgiving. “When can you depart?”
“That depends on the captain’s needs. I am responsible for the entire ship, and this is a task that can easily be delegated to another technician, such as Okeke, who is already on the surface.”
“Oh, but Okeke was not able to resolve the problem, and with such delicate negotiations, I need only the best.” Diplomat Foenicul lowered her gaze. “No offense to Lieutenant Okeke, of course, but surely you see how much the Consortium of Worlds needs you.”
Standing a little behind the diplomat, Captain Afaeaki rolled her eyes, and that was the only thing that kept Jela rooted to her spot. The captain understood how much the Consortium “needed” anyone. While they were technically an independent ship, turning down a Consortium job had a strange tendency to turn into a treason charge. “You have your orders, Chief Engineer Dedearian.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jela saluted and stalked off the bridge. She’d have to ask someone to feed Sadie while she was conducting the universe’s most pointless away mission.
* * *
Under normal circumstances, Jela would have flown herself down to the planet, but pulling an all-nighter after a week of double shifts left her less than confident in her ability to stay awake for two hours. Besides, with Sal flying, she could nap on the way down.
Only the change in engine noise told Jela that they were on the ground. She opened her eyes and straightened in her chair. “Handled with your usual grace, I see.”
At her side, Sal’s tentacles curled with delight. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Hope you brought a book.” Jela unbuckled her restraint and swung out of her seat. “This is gonna be dull.”
She headed for the landing hatch and toggled it open. The outside air was a little cool and smelled of cinnamon and seaweed. Okeke was already crossing the clearing where they’d set down. Her own ship, and the giant robot, were waiting at the other side. The robot’s anodized teal shell made a startling contrast with the vivid red foliage that surrounded them. The low trees gave way to reedy grass and then to a broad lake.
Jela lifted her arms overhead, in an attempt to wake up, and stared across the lake at the city on the other side. The buildings were set well back from the lake and surrounded by a beautiful mosaic wall. The undulating patterns of blues and greens put her in mind of Sal’s tentacles. There would be nothing unique here in another hundred years.
“Hey, Chief.” Okeke had a smear of grease next to her nose. “Sorry you had to come down.”
“Lady knows, it’s not your fault.” She headed over to the cargo hold to grab the transmission booster, with Okeke at her side. “I shoulda sent the transmitter with you in the first place.” She should have said there was nothing to be done and left it at that.
“Well, clear skies and all that.”
“Huh.” Jela stepped back from the shuttle as Okeke undid the hatch. The sky overhead was a crystalline blue, with nary a cloud. “Has it been clear like this all night?”
“Random lightning, but no clouds.” Okeke grabbed one end of the case holding the booster. “You said it was solar activity?”
“That’s what it looks like.” She lifted one end of the case while Okeke grabbed the other. “From the ship, the aurora borealis looked pretty stunning.”
The hatch to the shuttle opened, and Sal stuck her head out. “Will I be in your way if I read on the steps?”
“Knock yourself out.” Getting a chance to breathe air that hadn’t been recycled for decades was something no one would pass up. Heck, even Jela was feeling more alert, just from air and natural light.
They carried the booster over to the other shuttle, not that it needed proximity to the giant robot to work, but once they got it working, she’d be leaving it with Okeke.
Okeke snorted. “Too bad we couldn’t have the giant robot carry this for us.”
“Well . . .” Jela set her end of the case down. “I mean . . . we need to test all the parameters of the ‘Diplomatic Personal Surrogate.’ ”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course. Of course that’s what we need to do.” Okeke grinned and led the way over to the controls. She’d set them up outside the shuttle, hoping that they could act as a synced relay for the system aboard the ship. “Want to do the honors?”
She’d rather let Okeke have the fun, but given Diplomat Foenicul’s insistence on using the “best” of everything, it was probably safer if Jela used the giant robot. If anything went wrong with it, she didn’t want Okeke to take the brunt of that. And that, really, was why she hadn’t tried to sabotage anything regarding the mission. It had the potential to get everyone in her department in trouble. “Yeah . . . Yeah, I guess I’d better. Why don’t you look for a rock for Adika while I do this?”
“You are the absolute best.” Okeke nodded toward the lake. “I’ll be over there.”
“Take your time.” Chances were, even when she got this working, Diplomat Foenicul would insist that she stay on the planet. Jela activated the controls and, for thoroughness, started a new calibration sequence. Who was she kidding? Even working for the devil, it was hard not to do her personal best. As her matriarch had always said, “Done right, or done over.”
A breeze brushed her cheek, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation. She had an oscillating fan in her cabin, to try to mimic the randomness of natural air, but it wasn’t the same. This carried scents of loam and cinnamon and a salty tang of seaweed. As much as Jela loved engineering and space, she had hired onto the ship because of the planets she got to visit. If she’d known that the captain was taking this diplomatic gig, she’d have . . . what? Quit? And found another job doing what, exactly? It wasn’t as if the captain of any other ship would have been able to turn the job down safely.
Okeke screamed.
Jela’s eyes snapped open, her hand reaching for her blaster. At the shore, a giant squid monster thing had emerged, dripping, from the water and held Okeke in one tentacle.
Sal shouted something in her native language and fired her blaster at the thing. From within the monster’s mass of tentacles, a toothed beak emerged. The entire thing pulled itself closer to Sal, balancing impossibly on the dozens of writhing arms.
Across the lake, the mosaic wall became alive with activity as hundreds of citizens rushed to the top with spears and guns and braced themselves. Holy crap. This had not been in any of their pre-mission briefings.
Why the hell hadn’t Foenicul told them about giant squid when the citizens clearly knew about them?
Jela grabbed the interface visor from the console and shoved her arms into the control mitts. No way was that thing getting any of her team. She toggled the system to full power and then—
Then she was looking out the eyes of the giant robot. The system translated the patterns of her brain and muscular intentions into movement. She stood, rising fifteen meters above the ground. She’d give a lot for a weapons system on this, but a Diplomatic Personal Surrogate didn’t come equipped with such things.
But a club would work. She strode forward, ground trembling beneath her feet, and snatched up the case containing the satellite booster.
The squid-thing paused in its advance on Sal and turned its beak toward Jela. Or, rather, toward the giant robot. It seemed to have forgotten that it still held Okeke in one tentacle. She had one hand free and was slamming a rock against the tentacle.
Jela rammed the squid-thing with the case. It tumbled back, seemingly stunned. She needed it to drop Okeke. There was no telling what was vulnerable on this thing, but mouths tended to have a lot of nerves in them. Charging forward, Jela thrust the case at its beak.
It reeled, tentacles flailing. Okeke’s head whipped back and forth with the movement. With the case pulled back for another swing, Jela hesitated. She had to get Okeke out of the thing’s grasp before it hurt her, but each tentacle seemed to have a mind of its own.
Fine then. She’d threaten the tentacle that held Okeke. And, after all, it wasn’t like this was Jela’s actual body. Although the diplomat would have her head if the giant robot were permanently disabled. With the case still raised, she ran the giant robot directly into the squid-thing and brought the case down in the center of the mass of tentacles. Six of them wrapped around the case, anchoring it. She let go and used both hands to grab the tentacle holding Okeke. Toggling the power to full, she pulled her hands apart.
The squid-thing thrashed, trying to shake her loose, but she just bore down harder and tried to tear the tentacle off.
Finally it let go of Okeke, who dropped to the ground and rolled clear. The rest of the tentacles wrapped around the giant robot and pinned it. She tried to pull it free, but each time she got loose from one tentacle, another wrapped around her. Crap.
She wasn’t going to get free of them, so she had to figure out a way to stun them all at once. The junction where they all connected and where the beak was . . . there had to be a brain in there. In theory. With nothing else to try, Jela pitched the giant robot over, so that its mass fell toward the squid-thing. They both tumbled to the ground with the squid on the bottom.
The tension holding her released just enough that Jela was able to wiggle an arm free. She was perfectly safe, but she had to get the giant robot loose because the mission required— What the hell was she doing?
She knew what would happen if the Consortium got a foothold here. First it would be mining rights. Then it would be logging rights. And then water. And then labor . . . until nothing was left but the shell of a planet. Everyone who lived here would be clamoring to get a job with the Consortium, because that’s where the money was. The Consortium would strip their culture away until they were a shadow people.
It was one thing to think about that in the abstract, on the ship, and another to see the world and its mosaic-graced city.
On the ship, anything they did ran the risk of being blamed on her crew, but here? A giant squid had nothing to do with them. Even if she was blamed for using the robot without authorization, that fault wouldn’t hit anyone else.
She let the giant robot go limp, and the squid-thing wrapped its tentacles around the arms. The thing’s horny beak slammed into the exoskeleton, seeking a way into the nerve center. Electronics would do just as well, and if she bent the head, just so . . . some of those connections would be exposed.
The haptic sensors on the console suddenly froze. Jela tried to turn her head, but the view in her eyepiece stayed resolutely the same. Tentacles writhed around her.
She pushed clear of the goggles and staggered backward as her view returned to her own body.
A hundred meters away, Okeke and Sal had opened fire on the squid-thing. It abandoned the giant robot, which tumbled to the ground like a giant broken doll, and turned toward her crewmates.
Jela ran for the shuttle, drawing her own weapon. “Fall back! Fall back!”
Okeke and Sal didn’t waste any time. They sprinted for the shuttle as Jela did her best to cover their retreat. In a frantic jumble, they scrambled through the hatch. Sal threw herself into the pilot chair and didn’t wait for them to buckle in before beginning the power-up sequence.
A meaty slap sounded against the outside of the shuttle.
“Damn it.” Maybe Jela should have tried to kill the thing. She just thought it would play with the robot longer. “Can you hit it with the thrusters?”
The shuttle engine roared into life and the acceleration made Jela stumble. Okeke had fallen to her knees, blood dripping from vicious perfect circles where her uniform had torn on her arms and torso. Crawling to get to her, Jela eased her assistant onto her back. “Hold on. We’ll get you patched up. Just hold on.”
* * *
The shuttle door opened and the captain was waiting in the shuttle bay, with Diplomat Foenicul. And a full security detail. Jela stopped in the door so suddenly that Sal ran into her back. What the heck?
“We need a medic.” She pointed toward the inside of the shuttle. “I have a crew member down.”
Captain Afaeaki stepped forward, opening her mouth to speak. Before she could finish drawing breath, Diplomat Foenicul swooped forward, fluttering her wings to rise above the small group. “Chief Engineer Dedearian, your actions have jeopardized the Consortium’s interests in unforgivable ways.”
“You mean that goddamn squid-thing did.” If she was going down, she would speak her mind. Finally. “And why the hell wasn’t that thing in our briefings?”
The diplomat dipped a little in the air, a line appearing between her delicate brows. “It is not your place to question.”
“And I never have. Not until one of my crewmates was almost killed.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. We need a medic and we need one stat.”
The captain turned to the medical team standing by behind security. “Doctor. Go.”
The diplomat fluttered higher. “I must insist that they are all arrested.”
“I . . . I what?” No. No, that had not been the plan. If there was one. “I was the only one who used the gi—the Personal Diplomatic Surrogate.”
“Yes, but when your shuttle took off, it engulfed the creature in flames. Though not intentional, it still had the effect of making the natives believe that we had defeated their god.”
“Their god? So you knew about the giant squid-thing before we went down? That—that’s why you wouldn’t go down to the surface. That’s why we had a giant fucking robot!” After seeing the sucker wounds on Okeke’s arms and torso, Jela was almost vibrating with anger. If it weren’t her own ship, she’d spit on the floor. “You put them in direct danger, because you inadequately briefed us for the mission.”
Behind the diplomat’s back, the captain suddenly broke into a huge grin like she’d just won a hand of poker. “Oh dear. Regulations require me to report irregular briefings to the Consortium representatives.”
“What?” Diplomat Foenicul spun in the air, but by the time she’d completed the turn, Captain Afaeaki had again resumed a solemn glare.
The captain spread her hands as if she were helpless. “I wish I did not have to, but the trip will come under such scrutiny with the arrest of my officer. You understand, of course.”
For long moments, Diplomat Foenicul hovered in the air, the only sound the hiss of air circulators. She snapped her wings, once and then twice. “Punishment must occur. This cannot go unremarked.”
“Of course.” Captain Afaeaki bowed her head. “Security, confine Chief Engineer Dedearian to quarters.”
And this was why Jela loved her captain. Confined to quarters? If she’d been really angry, it would have been the brig. But this? This wasn’t a punishment. It was a reward.
Jela strode down the ramp and was kind of glad that she reeked of sweat. Diplomat Foenicul fluttered back, wrinkling her nose, and gave Jela ample space to approach the captain. “Permission to see to my wounded teammate, before reporting to my quarters.”
“Granted.”
She left Diplomat Foenicul fluttering in the middle of the shuttle bay and went back into the shuttle. The doctor had Okeke propped up against the side of the shuttle and was talking on her comm. She looked up when Jela came in, Sal close on her heels.
“She’ll be fine. Gonna have a heck of a scar, if she wants to keep it, but she’ll be fine.” The doctor kept her hand on Okeke’s wrist, measuring her pulse. “Got a team coming to take her to sick bay.”
Jela settled onto the floor next to the junior engineer. “Sorry about this.”
“No worries.” Okeke tried to smile, but pain made it into more of a grimace. “My son’s going to be upset that I didn’t bring a rock back.”
“He’ll be happy you’re alive. Trust me. Besides, you fought it off with a rock. That’s got to be good enough, right?”
“It’s nothing compared to a giant robot.”
Jela snorted. A rock. A giant robot. Maybe it didn’t matter how you fought a giant squid, just so long as you fought.