The Smoke Ring

She said, “That never works.”

“Well, he’s trying something new. Booce bought a piece of the tree. And he owes us.”

“So it’s not just mud, it’s money. All right. Rather. I can understand money.”

“That’s more than I do. It’s power, but it doesn’t make you an officer. Are there un-rich officers?”

Her lips twitched. “They marry rich citizens. Their children are officers. The number of officers goes up. One day we’ll all be officers.”

“Why does Wayne Mickl want that suit so much? I’d think it would be the other way around—”

“It’s bad for the Admiralty if happyfeet hold old science. I think Wayne’s almost given up on taking his Captain’s seat. The pressure suit is as much power as he’ll ever have, and he takes his responsibilities—”

They were back: Wayne Mickl and Raym Wilby and Jonthan. Raym was unwontedly quiet. Mickl said, “And what were you discussing with the Bosun?”

Sectry was flustered; Rather answered first. “I was suggesting that if you did have a fourth pressure suit, you’d need twelve dwarves to man them.”

Sectry tried to cover her laugh with her hands. Booce laughed outright. Doheen’s mouth was rigidly straight. Mickl was about to explode.

And Rather had learned little from Sectry, but it might be enough. Go for Gold. Before Mickl could speak, he asked, “Does it fly better than your suits?”

Mickl’s face didn’t change. “Yes. How did you know that?”

“You said it outflew you. Besides, I heard something once.”

“You’ll tell me.”

“Privately, if you don’t mind, Captain-Guardian.”

They took the kitchen. Mickl said, “That fringe-addled Dark diver makes you a poor witness.”

“I don’t know anything about your Chairman’s Court.”

“You’ll see a court soon enough. Talk to me, boy.”

“I don’t know anything about your mutineer pressure suit either—”

“Then—”

“I once heard that there’s a way to make little holes on a pressure suit spray fire. Then it can fly without wings.”

“Go on.”

“Maybe I can find a man who can do it. He doesn’t have a pressure suit, so he’s never tried it.”

“Take me to him.”

“They don’t deal with Navy. They don’t even come into the Admiralty.” Rather visualized a mysterious happyfeet tribe, isolated and distrustful. “They sent copsiks once. The Scientists don’t come themselves.”

“Give me a name.”

He picked one he could remember. “Seekers.”

“There’s no such tribe.”

Rather shrugged.

“Well, what are we doing here, Rather?”

“What happens is, you give me your pressure suit—”

Mickl laughed.

“I take it somewhere.” Payment? Not money; the Seekers might not use money. “I take fringe too, maybe twenty kilos. I take tools. I bring the suit back. They keep the fringe and the tools. Maybe the jets work and maybe they don’t.”

“Let me tell you why I can’tgive you my pressure suit,” Mickl said gently. “First, it belongs to the Admiralty. Second, it alternates among three Guardians. My triad would notice. Third, turning a pressure suit over to savages would certainly be judged as mutiny, especially since — fourth — you might not bring it back. Stet?”

“Not stet. Let me think.”

“While you’re thinking…This mysterious tribe, did they ever have a pressure suit to practice on?”

“They say they did—”

“Could they have got it working again?”

This was taking Rather into empty sky. Treefodder! Maybe it was lost, or stolen, or—

“Talk to me!”

“I was trying to remember. They threw it away.”

“What?”

“It killed three citizens.”

“How?”

“The…silver was only for one who was worthy. One day the old dwarf died while he was using it. Three dwarves wrestled for it—”

“That sounds like too many dwarves. Rather.”

It did. “I saw two myself, and I never got inside the jungle. I guess Seekers get more dwarves.”

“…Goon.”

“The wi

“Sounds like the air feed went bad. What then?”

“That’s when they found the Admiralty. They say one of your ships tried to rob them—”

“Nonsense.”

“We say treefodder. They say you did.” It might have happened in the past: Navy robbing savages—

Wayne Mickl was looking disgusted. He said, “It’s possible. A ship low on provisions…this isn’t helping.’’

“Wait. You three who trade your suit off. Are you always on duty at Headquarters?”

“No, of course not. Why?”

Rather took a deep breath. “Your fourth point: of course we’ll bring the suit back. Not all of us will go. You’ll keep friends of mine to answer for it if the suit doesn’t come back.

“Your third point: maybe it’s mutiny if you lose your chance at a pressure suit that can fly without wings, especially if it belongs to the Admiralty, which was my first point, and especially if you could get three. So let’s work on your second point. Can you get the Admiralty’s permission?”

“Admiral Robar Henling would rather give up his seeds. At his age it wouldn’t — No. Just no.”

He was getting somewhere. He had Mickl’s attention. Think! “Will your, uh, triad try to track down that flying pressure suit?”

“We will. We are!”

“You can go anywhere if you think it’s the right direction, stet? You’re Guardians. One of you is an officer. Nobody’ll ask. Am I completely off the track?”

“…Not yet.”

“So off you go, tracking rumors of a fourth pressure suit. Maybe you find it. You close in. But there’s a dwarf in it, and he sees you coming and flies away laughing. What he doesn’t know is that your triad was working without a pressure suit for a while. Then it came back. Now off goes the bandit dwarf, but he’s doomed, because your suit flies too and he doesn’t know it!”

Mickl’s grin was not quite a pleasant sight. “Were you a Teller, where you came from?”

Rather knew exactly what he meant. “Our Teller was Merril till she died. These days everyone does some telling. Captain-Guardian, I’m trying to help. I’ll bring the suit back whether it works or not.”

“But would your Seekers give it back?” Mickl sighed. “I don’t blame you for attacking my men, and I won’t charge you. We’ll leave it at that for the moment. This isn’t finished, Rather.”

The civilians watched the Navy people fly toward their rocket. Sectry was trailing; and when he saw her look back, Rather snatched his wings from the door and jumped after her.

She stayed in the air while he strapped his wings on.

A voice spoke from the Navy ship’s cabin; she answered. Then she kicked away to avoid the rocket’s exhaust. She did not fly back toward Serjent House.

The Navy rocket departed.

Rather reached her. He didn’t have breath to speak. She said, “You’re involved in something.”

He shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t want any part of it. I’ve decided I don’t want to live in a tree either.”

Rather had his breath back. He said, “We’re the right size.”

She shook her head violently. Teardrops flew. “Didn’t Wayne tell you how many dwarves there are in the Admiralty? Rather, it was a good offer. Nobody makes real decisions when she’s on fringe. I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” His tongue was in knots and his thoughts were scrambled. The Scientist and the Checker, they caused this, they sent me into Headquarters! Would it be different if they hadn’t? Did I mean it, that offer? How will Carlot feel about this? Or Jill?

“I do want to see you again. After this is over, if it’s ever over. You’ll be going back to the tree, won’t you? You won’t like it here, not with the Captain-Guardian on your tail!” She didn’t wait for his answer. “Well, sooner or later there’ll be a mission to Citizens Tree, and I’ll be on it. I hope this is all cleared up by then.”