Starfall

Floreal

At the top of the tunnel, Tiffany stood and stared at the world within. Stalks of elephant grass towered over her head. Stems of huge flowering plants rose even higher, filling the sky with broad leaves and brilliant blossoms. Day moths the size of condors flitted through white light filtering down from above. Somewhere up there, behind a hologram sky, a fusion tube supplied light and heat to the habitat. Bird calls echoed through the greenery.

Stripping off her battered and useless v-suit, she took deep breaths of flower-scented air. Her fashionable black silk gi was a filthy mess, plastered with sweat. But the changes of clothes she had brought with her were now the property of polite smirking Commander Hesse. Spaced by slavers, hunted by Bugs, hit by a cannon shell, then nearly suffocated, she dearly needed a bath, a nap, and a new outfit. And maybe a meal to go with it.

The first thing she did was to duck discreetly behind a big leaf—the most misnamed part of a v-suit being the “relief tube.” Water was all around her. Shadowy air felt hot and humid. Dew dripped down from giant leaves into big clear ponds on the garden floor.

Emerging from behind the leaf, Tiffany sat down on a patch of moss amid scattered EVA packs and spare ammo boxes. She stared longingly at the pools. Was it safe to relax? Miko laughed at her indecision. Setting down her gun collection, Miko stripped off her v-suit and cut-down kimono. Selecting a wide pool shaded by a colossal dripping leaf, she placed her machine pistol within easy reach, then slid eagerly into the water.

Tiffany envied Miko’s ease with her body, never shy or embarrassed. Nothing to hide. Diplomatic training made Tiffany too worried about appearances, about the image she presented. Half the time she still felt like a holo. She watched Miko roll lazily onto her back, calling out happily, “Come on in, blondie. Water’s wonderful.”

Her sweat-soaked gi felt heavy and confining, while Miko’s free and easy nudity cast a compelling spell. Smooth curving limbs, small cupped breasts, swelling hips, and the dark cleft between her buttocks, all looked clean and graceful buoyed by the clear water. Tiffany always secretly enjoyed women’s bodies, telling herself she was responding not to sex, but to aesthetics.

Standing up, she untied her gi, discarding the jacket, then kicking off the pants. Tiffany could no longer count the times in the last few hours when she had thought herself dead. But here she was alive and whole—and they had made it to Floreal. The odds against that had been merely astronomical. She had every right to live a bit.

The pool’s cool caress felt wonderful. Water slid over every centimeter of her skin washing away sweat and worry. Miko paddled over to be beside her. Tiffany reached out and took her hand, saying solemnly, “You saved my life.”

Miko looked surprised. “When?”

“When I was suffocating in that suit. It was ghastly. I was sure I was dead, but I woke up tethered to you.”

She laughed. “Girl, that was nothing. Standard survival procedure. You are the one who got us here.”

Tiffany shook her head. “I’m going to make it up to you,” she promised.

“Really?” Miko raised an eyebrow. Reaching out, she took Tiffany’s other hand. Their fingers interlaced. They half-floated, half-sat, hands locked.

Tiffany no longer needed her sensors to feel the pulse pounding in Miko’s palms. “I have a secret to tell. Something I could not say until now.”

Miko’s dark eyes danced. “I’ve a secret to tell too.”

“What’s that?” She meant for Miko to have the first say.

“This is how you can make it up to me.” Miko leaned forward and kissed her. Not a polite peck on the lips, but a long hungry kiss. Some secret. Having guessed what was coming, Tiffany opened her mouth to take it. The kiss felt fresh and exciting. All the tension of the trip flowed out of her. She had earned the right to get whatever she wanted out of her new life. Even if what she wanted was Miko.

Their lips parted. Tiffany told her, “Time for my secret. Floreal is a ship. A starship.”

Miko’s eyes widened. She looked about her, at the pool, the patches of elephant grass, the great green stalks soaring upward, supporting jewel-like flowers. “Oh, no. That’s impossible!”

“It’s in the specs off the Sacajawea. Floreal was a colony ship, the Arcadia, sent to settle the Orion Cluster ages ago.”

“Can it take us outsystem?”

“I sure hope so.” Otherwise this whole trip would be a colossal waste.

“You’re amazing.” Miko kissed her again, even harder. When their tongues untwisted, she demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry.” Tiffany felt terrible about that. “But I had to see what sort of shape this place was in. And I could not risk the secret getting out. Imagine what would happen if the Jutes and Choctaws found out. Or Hesse and his happy slavers.”

Miko stared at her, eyes aglow. “You are amazing. You risked your life coming here. And now you’ve saved me, and maybe half the system as well!”

“Not yet,” Tiffany reminded her. “We can’t be sure.”

“I’m sure.” Miko slid closer, kissing her even more fiercely. “Look what you’ve done already—unbelievable!” Tiffany had thought that by holding Miko’s hands she might keep things under control. But Miko proved to be more adept than she imagined. Clamping her legs around Tiffany’s thigh, she drew their bodies together. “Aesthetics” was getting out of hand.

Tiffany looked at her sternly. “I hope you are not falling in love again.” Sensors told her it was already too late.

Miko laughed. “Try and stop me.” Her knee slid expertly between Tiffany’s legs, and a calf curled around to rub her buttock underwater. Tiffany relaxed, letting Miko slide in closer, clamping her between calf and thigh. Miko started to rock. Which Tiffany found pretty exciting. Thrilling actually.

The thrill did not last. Tilting back, Tiffany froze.

“What’s the matter?” Miko whispered. “Am I going too fast?”

“That’s for sure,” Tiffany whispered. “And there is a man watching.”

Miko stopped rocking. Pulse racing, she let go of Tiffany’s left hand, reaching up onto the bank. Her fingers closing around the butt of the recoilless pistol.

Tiffany kept her gaze fixed on the man. He was a dozen meters above the pool, in the crotch of a flowering tree, sitting on the back of a big feathered creature. Either a roc or hippogriff. It was hard to tell through the leaves and blossoms. The man himself was tan and handsome, with blond hair and broad shoulders. Seemingly nude, he had one of those firm, anatomically correct bodies that let you count every rippling muscle. He gripped a light slender lance, and a hand-forged long sword hung at his hip.

Miko rolled slowly off of Tiffany, turning the pistol toward him.

Smiling, he gave a jaunty wave. Seeming not to know or care what a pistol was, he called down in passable Universal, “Please, my ladies, don’t mind me. I can wait until you are done.”

“That’s all right,” Tiffany called back. Sitting up, she reached over to make sure Miko did not shoot. “We were just finishing here.”

“Good. I would hate to disturb something so important.” Voice modulation told Tiffany that he would have been perfectly happy to wait and watch. Lifting a leg, he swung easily off his half-hidden mount, then slid down the tree, landing on his feet. Through the leaves, he had looked like he had nothing on but the baldric supporting his sword. Closer up, Tiffany could see he wore tooled leather boots, a bright woven belt, and a magnificently stuffed codpiece.

Setting down his lance, he bowed, right hand obediently tugging his forelock. “Ja-lan of Apex, at your ladyship’s service.” Sensors said that was true.

Miko hissed in sotto voice, “Tell Sir Jolly of Pecs we do not need to be serviced.”

Tiffany shushed her, diplomatic training taking over. “We could use help in finding our way. And some food as well.” Their v-suits only held emergency rations, vitamin-glucose pills, and full meal tabs.

He straightened up. “But of course.” Producing a bone whistle from his belt, he blew two sharp notes. Leaves rustled and a hulking troop of Super-Chimps stepped into the clearing around the pond. Silently they began picking up EVA packs, grenades, clothes, discarded v-suits and ammo boxes.

“That’s our stuff,” Miko protested. “Cut it out.”

Tiffany shushed her again, seeing no percentage in putting up a fight. None of the chimps were armed, but there were at least a dozen of them, all big males, massing 200 kilos apiece. Pan troglodytes supreme was a chimp-human cross, bioengineered back in the early post-atomic. Grunts and pant hoots did not make them stupid. Their DNA differed from her’s by a trifling 2 percent, and they could be dangerous when needed.

Besides, who knew what else hid in the greenery. A minute ago, Tiffany thought she and Miko had utter privacy. Now it turned out they had performed for an all-male audience. A chimp handed Ja-lan the big recoilless cannon, which he slung easily over his shoulder, giving the chimp his lance to carry. Perhaps he was not as innocent about guns as he pretended. No one made a move to take away Miko’s pistol.

Miko insisted on having their clothes back, and they dressed with as much grace as they could muster. Ja-lan asked their names, smiling in appreciation when he heard Tiffany’s. She liked that. Tiffany felt totally comfortable being called Panic—proud even. Never quite trusting guys who pretended her name was nothing special.

“Come, your ladyships.” Ja-lan of Apex made a polite “after you” bow. “You will want to see the Flower Princess.”

Sensors said he really believed that. What Tiffany wanted to see was the habitat’s command deck—but she had to be careful not to make demands that might tip her hand, especially with no certainty of being fulfilled. Instead, Tiffany asked, “Who is the Flower Princess? And why would we want to see her?”

Ja-lan replied with a puzzled look. “You are indeed from far away. The Flower Princess is the Sacred Queen’s daughter. She can best help you. I am, after all, merely a man.”

Merely a man. How completely helpless. This came from two meters of tanned savage, with a long sword at his hip, and a recoilless cannon slung over his shoulder! Yet sensors said he meant it. Tiffany felt like she was getting a lesson in polite open diplomacy.

They set out into the tall green tangle with Ja-lan leading. Vines snaked overhead, palm fronds brushed Tiffany’s hips and shoulders, roots tripped at her feet. Huge swift insects hummed and darted about, barely visible through the canopy. Twice they had to stop for giant centipede-like creatures, multi-legged horrors the size of a house who were placidly eating their way through the landscape. Finally, they came to a clearing choked with elephant grass. Beyond the grasstops, Tiffany could see the green sides of the habitat curving up into cloudy hologram sky. They seemed to be at the bottom of a jungle valley, surrounded by misty heights—standard for a hollow spin-habitat where every direction was up.

Ja-lan’s feathered mount flew down to join them. He was a hippogriff—half bird, half mammal—a semi-intelligent, bioengineered beaked quadruped, designed to be a flying mount and pack animal for low-g worlds and habitats. SuperChimps set down their burdens and melted into the tall grass, returning with fruit; pears, mangos, and mutant papayas.

As they sat eating, Tiffany’s microamps picked up the whap-whap-whap of jet-powered rotors. A sleek tilt-rotored twin-tailed VTOL came in low over the canopy, hovered for a second like a silver insect, then descended into the clearing, flattening the tall grass with its propwash. Between its stubby wings sat an open cabin with a curved windscreen. Chimps piled the packs and ammo aboard, and Ja-lan walked his hippogriff into the enclosed cargo hold beneath the cabin, then turned to them. “Come, please. The Flower Princess will be delighted.”

Miko looked at her, as if to say, “Now what?”

Tiffany shrugged—“We go.” The last man among mutants who had offered her a ride had ended up stuffing her out an airlock into orbit. But Ja-lan of Apex had Commander Hesse beat by a parsec. Instead of smirking and threatening, he got her and Miko to do whatever he wanted just by being winsome yet manly. Had Ja-lan been in command of the slavers, she and Miko would be in the bowels of the Hiryu, whisked politely off to who-knows-where.

Miko shook her head. “Okay, boss lady. But if things turn out badly, remember my impulse was to plug him.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

They trooped aboard, leaving the Chimps in the clearing, and the silver VTOL lifted off. There was no crew, and the flight must have been preprogrammed. Ja-lan spent the whole trip pointing out sights and peeling their mangoes.

Halfway up the cloud-wracked valley a gleaming aerostat hove into sight, a floating gold pyramid of ultralight construction, topped by the slender towers of a temple-palace. Ja-lan grinned proudly. “Welcome to Apex.”

The VTOL set herself down on a hanger pad at the edge of the floating city. From there, moving stairs took them past narrow walk-streets and hanging gardens. People packed the rooftops and terraced patios—naked children sat atop garden walls—all watching in awed silence, even the kids. “We don’t have visitors very often,” Ja-lan explained.

Tiffany could believe it, considering what she had come through to get there. “When did you last see someone from outside?”

“None of us can remember,” Ja-lan admitted. “Perhaps the Flower Princess knows.”

Flowers climbed the walls and towers of the temple-palace. The princess herself waited for them at the top of the moving stairs, wearing a bell-shaped skirt, embroidered jacket, and a blood-ruby necklace, her black serpent tresses held in place by a diamond comb. Beside her stood a nude serving girl with flowers in her hair, gravely holding a gold cup of welcome.

Ja-lan stopped at the head of the stairs, saying men could come no farther. “But my good wishes go with you.”

Tiffany took the cup to her lips. The wine was fresh and fruity. Sensor readings showed the Flower Princess was as serene as she seemed—totally at ease on her palace porch. In the midst of her floating city. Surrounded by a sealed habitat guarded by maniacal gun-toting Bugs, orbiting in an abandoned system.

All Tiffany got was that greeting cup. There was no question of hearing their business until they had been groomed, fed, and rested. Women and girls took them to a tiled pool, for their second dip of the day, toweling them dry afterward. Long flowing skirts and bright embroidered blouses waited for them on the tiles. Their own clothes were whisked away, along with Miko’s recoilless pistol.

Having been washed, dressed, and disarmed, they were lodged in an airy tower room, trimmed with polished aromatic wood and decorated by rows of tiles glazed in astonishing hues. There they were fed figs, flatbread, humus, honey cakes, and black olives off crystal platters. Seeing there was no rushing these people, Tiffany ate and slept.

She was awakened by an eager brown-skinned serving girl called Dee-vi, who climbed up to sit cross-legged on the bed, saying, “The Flower Princess will see you now.”

Her highness turned out to be a hard sell. Tiffany’s sensors showed the Flower Princess was concerned but unconvinced. “We must protect ourselves,” she explained. “The outside is a dangerous place.”

Tiffany agreed, but pointed out that the outside universe would soon come crashing into Floreal.

“So you say. We know more about the outside than you might imagine. For instance we know that a dozen hours ago a slaver ship rendezvoused with another vessel, then dropped off two passengers. Shortly afterward, you appeared.”

Tiffany admitted that they were those two. Her ensuing story about being summarily tossed out the airlock by Commander Hesse sounded fairly hollow, even to her.

“What if I told you that slaver ship has returned, matching orbits with us? ”

Tiffany believed it. Hesse must have come back to see if a dozen hours in a v-suit had made her and Miko more manageable.

“Luckily, it is not up to me to decide,” the Flower Princess declared. “The Sacred Queen will want to interview you, and make her own decision.”

“When will that be?” Tiffany had much to do, and not much time to do it in.

“When she wills it.”

The audience was at an end. Dee-vi, their grinning serving girl, waited at the door of the chamber, anxious to see to their needs. Wanting to get her bearings, Tiffany asked for a tour of the aerostat. Dee-vi happily obliged, taking them from the highest tower to the city edge, where winged young people sat perched on railings like gargoyles, gossiping and flirting, then soaring out over the misty green riot below.

Unlike the Flower Princess, Dee-vi had an insatiable interest in anything they had to say, asking wide-eyed questions about the world outside. Accepting whatever answers she got as gospel, Dee-vi was ecstatic to discover that Floreal was a starship. She could see the universe without leaving home—a child’s dream come true. But Tiffany discovered that even a sanitized version of their trip showed how unreal the outside sounded—ships crisscrossing vast empty voids inhabited by Jutes, Choctaws, and giant white stars run amok. Dee-vi had trouble comprehending what it was that slavers did.

“It’s not as bad as Tiffany makes it out,” Miko told her.

“There are lots of peaceful, pleasant parts to the universe. They are just impossibly far away. So far off, I’ve certainly never seen them. Which is why this habitat needs to be headed outsystem. And soon.” Especially since this chaotic little corner of the cosmos was doomed.

“That is up to the Sacred Queen,” Dee-vi gravely informed them. The child had complete faith in the Queen’s decisions.

“So we need to put our case to her,” Tiffany explained. The sooner the better.

“You will,” Dee-vi assured her. “She plans for everything.”

“Can’t we just go see her?” By now Tiffany knew they had no virtual conferencing. Not even a voice comlink. Talking to Dee-vi had given her a better grip on how Floreal worked. What first seemed like a matriarchy was something more complex. Instead of outright female rule, Floreal had separate spheres. She and Miko were a women’s problem, because they were women. If Commander Hesse had come knocking at the habitat door he would have gotten a different reception. Men would have dealt with him, as they saw fit. Women would have stayed out unless needed. Weird but workable. And not without its advantages.

“Of course you can see the Queen.” Dee-vi told them. “Any woman can. She holds durbar in her High Court at the Cliffs of World’s End. You can take your ship and go there.”

Tiffany had to explain that all the wondrous ships she had ridden in were no longer available.

“Then you must find someone who has one.”

“The only person we know outside of the palace is a man named Ja-lan.”

“Everyone knows Ja-lan.” Dee-vi’s eyes brightened. “Three times fencing champion. Tall, fearless, always friendly and happy to talk. He says ‘Hi’ when he sees me.”

“Can you tell him we need a ship?”

“Gladly.” Serving two mysterious outworlders was becoming more of a lark than she imagined. At dusk Dee-vi guided them back to the tower, then disappeared in search of Ja-lan. It seemed way too easy.

Their clothes were washed and folded, lying atop their other possessions. Only the weapons and ammo boxes were missing. No one had told them they could not have them, or tried to take them away. They were just gone. Miko mentioned the absence, and got the stock response—take it up with the Queen.

Apex had no sun, but nightfall was still a spectacle. Clouds shredded into sunset colors, making their enameled tower room glow like the interior of a Faberge egg. The hologram sky purpled, darkening to match the eternal night outside, streaked by neon gas clouds and studded with stars. Tiffany knew that less than twenty klicks overhead hung the inner surface of the habitat, covered by dark flowering canopy. You could smell the jasmine and sweet honeysuckle. Yet the feeling of depth was uncanny. Swift moving moonlets sent drifting patches of light through the tower windows.

Romantic and then some. Relief, recent peril, and impending doom made the moment utterly special. Tiffany sat propped across from Miko in their high tower window, their legs and lower bodies braced together, holding each other in. Astonished by the beauty of the place, they laughed and joked, basking in their survival. Talking about the absolute need to save this world. And themselves with it.

Maintaining the right attitude took effort. Tiffany had come a long way, and still she was not there. As friendly as Apex seemed to be, these people were strangers. Somehow she had to make them see the danger they faced. But now she had someone to share her feelings with, someone she could trust with the truth. She felt a flood of affection for Miko. It was very much the two of them, against all odds. She studied her newfound friend. Long black hair hung down over small pale shoulders. Slim limbs bent just so helped hold Tiffany in the window. Her laugh was bold and happy.

Then it was time for bed. Tiffany sat watching Miko strip in a pool of moonlight. A whole new world, and now this. Very much a night to remember. Standing up, she let her skirt drop, then slipped between the satin sheet and silk coverlet without taking off her blouse. Miko was a warm presence, weighing down her side of the bed.

“Worried?” Miko asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “Just shy.”

“You don’t have to be.” Miko laughed. “It’s only me.”

Right. Tiffany reached out and stroked Miko’s delicate shoulder, marveling at how it felt both smooth and solid at the same time. Miko lay on her side, smiling, one hand resting between them, the other at her side. She shifted slightly, and her in-between hand touched Tiffany’s breast, feeling her nipple through the fabric. Her fingers were slim, their tips tiny, but Tiffany could not believe how good it felt. Her worries dissolved. She let her own fingers follow Miko’s arm down to where her hand rested on her hip.

As much as this might feel right—as sure as Tiffany was of what she would find—she still had that first-time sense of awe and anticipation. The feeling that tonight was indeed special. Maybe Miko was what she had always been looking for.

A shadow appeared, silhouetted in the window. Tiffany saw a long shining line of steel. Someone hissed, “Your ladyships, I am here.”

“What?” Miko rolled swiftly over.

“Dee-vi said you wanted me,” the shadow explained.

Tiffany saw Ja-lan crouching in the window they had vacated. He must have climbed the vines twining around the tower. Without much trouble apparently; he was not even breathing hard.

Miko groaned aloud.

“Please, we must be quiet,” Ja-lan begged. “I am not supposed to be here.” “That’s for sure,” Miko snorted, refusing to be silenced.

“Dee-vi said you needed a ship. To see the Sacred Queen.”

“Can’t it wait?” Tiffany suggested. “In the morning maybe.”

Ja-lan shook his head. “It must be now, otherwise I would never have risked the climb. This is a woman’s tower.” Was a woman’s tower. “If I could have waited, I would have. It is a banishing offense just to be here.”

Tiffany sat up, putting her hand on Miko’s shoulder. “We really need a ship.”

Miko groaned again, lying back, hands over her eyes. “Just promise me he is not going to make a career of this.”

“Of course not.” Tiffany leaned over and kissed her. “I promise, once we get this done we’ll find a place to be alone.”

“With a lock on the door?”

Tiffany promised, then kissed her again. “Let’s get going before someone sounds the alarm.” She got into her gi, not wanting to go climbing about in a long skirt.

Miko pulled on her short kimono. “Can’t we use the lift?”

Ja-lan shook his head. “Someone might see. And we need to cross the roof below to get into the hanger.”

Low-g and moonlight made the climb down a breeze. Tiffany dropped the last ten meters to the rooftop. Light and voices filtered up from below. Ja-lan led them on a zig-zagging course across flat roofs, up and down narrow stairs, and through a garden court inhabited by a flock of peacocks. Suddenly, he stopped, holding out his hand.

Tiffany peered down. A silver shape protruded out onto a dark landing pad. She realized she was seeing a small semi-rigid airship from above. Crouched beside her, Ja-lan whispered, “This is our ship. Lower yourselves lightly onto the upper deck. Side ladders lead into the cabin below. But be as quiet as you can.”

“Why so much secrecy?” she whispered back.

“Because we are borrowing her.”

“Without permission?” Miko suggested.

“Exactly.” Ja-lan grinned. He was obviously having a time of it, breaking into a women’s tower, stealing an airship, making off with female outworlders. Tiffany guessed that Floreal did not offer a champion swordsman many chances for high adventure.

She did as he said, lowering herself to the silver back of the ship, then climbing down a curved ladder to the cabin below. Where Dee-vi waited. Their serving girl helped her and Miko through the cabin window. Ja-lan swung in behind them, going straight to the cabin controls. He started up the engine, then released the landing grapples. They were off.

The airship sailed swiftly through the perfumed night beneath artificial stars. Tiffany spotted another aerostat to starboard, a soft pyramid of gleaming rooftops and lamp-lit windows. Dee-vi told her, “That is Eyrie, where my mother’s cousins live.”

Pursuit soon caught up with them. Just as they reached topless moonlit cliffs, Tiffany’s audio sensors picked up the whap-whap of rotors. She spotted a flier’s running lights, coming up fast. Ten times as swift as the airship, the VTOL swooped down to grapple them from above, like a white spider falling on its prey.

The two ships hung there, beside dark towering cliffs that were really one end of the habitat. The High Court’s landing stage lay less than a kilometer away, but the VTOL’s jet rotors kept them from moving so much as a micron.

Tiffany heard footsteps on the upper deck, then on the ladders leading down to the cabin. Moments later, swordsmen came swinging in the cabin windows, blades drawn. Ja-lan leaped to meet them in the middle of the cabin, keeping the women at his back. His blade flashed in the cabin light, disarming one intruder, then pinking another in the shoulder, drawing first blood.

Ja-lan was in his element, eager to show off his swordsmanship. His opponents were not so pleased. Tiffany’s sensors showed they were hesitant. Not happy to be dragged out of their beds in the middle of the night, then forced to face the local fencing champion in a narrow cabin, where only two of them could come at him at once.

She yelled, “Stop at once, by order of the Queen.”

Slowly the men lowered their swords. Accustomed since birth to taking commands from women, they looked warily at Tiffany. Stepping past Ja-lan, she put herself between him and the boarding party. “We are here to see the Sacred Queen. And travel under her protection.” That last part was diplomatic license, but who could contradict her?

“We are here to get this ship back.” The man who spoke was the one holding his shoulder. Blood oozed between his fingers, giving him the most right to complain.

“You shall have it,” Tiffany told them. “But we all want to be let off at the High Court landing stage. You have no right to keep us from seeing the Queen.”

Apex’s loose personalized relations played to her advantage. The boarding party had to decide among themselves what to do, there being no way to send back for orders. They could return in triumph with the ship they were sent to get. Or they could get cut to ribbons by a master swordsman, attempting to forcibly prevent three women from seeing the Queen. None of them wanted to risk his skin getting drawn into something that would ultimately be decided by females. Better to bring the ship back empty than to return with disgruntled women aboard. Who knew what story they would tell the Flower Princess?

So they were set down on the moonlit landing stage. Topless cliffs towered out of sight above them. Kilometers above, at the zero-g level of the habitat, up and down reversed themselves, and the cliffs extended on to meet the jungle floor again. No wonder they called it World’s End.

Tall Bug warriors stood on the steps leading up to the High Court, looking like giant Hindu war gods, each clutching four huge shining scimitars in its four upper limbs. Ja-lan bowed to Tiffany, saying, “I can come no farther.”

“You have done more than enough,” she assured him.

“Way more,” Miko added.

The smiling swordsman straightened up, saluting them with a sweep of his blade. “Happy to be of service.”

They left him on the landing stage at the base of the steps. What went on inside was women’s business. Some laws and decisions applied to everyone, like the silent ban on firearms. But enforcement was by gender. Women had to pass on her and Miko, before their case went to the men. Ja-lan was jumping the gun a bit, but only at Dee-vi’s request.

Their serving-girl-cum-guide bounded up the stairs, ignoring the towering Bug warriors, anxious to show them the High Court. Nothing so far prepared Tiffany for what she saw inside. The Queen’s court had a giant-sized audience chamber, partly to accommodate the Bugs. A Hive Queen half-filled the chamber, something few humans saw in the flesh. A titanic thirty-two-legged monster, she lifted her forward segments in the air, looking them over as they entered. Eight-legged workers scurried about regurgitating food and water for her, and carrying off egg cysts.

Between them and the Bugs stood a crowd of women, mostly older women in great belled dresses, with a few younger ones sprinkled among them. But none of them were real. Tiffany’s sensors told her these were all holos, giving off no brain waves or skin response. Dee-vi had told her the memories and personalities of dying queens were downloaded to advise the living one—appearing as holos when needed.

This ghostly court flanked a raised dais supporting an empty throne. A cushioned stool actually, low and backless, Roman-style with carved ivory legs, and the same ancient simplicity as the Archangel’s Picassos. But empty nonetheless. Tiffany surveyed the hall, looking for someone to sit in it. All she saw were holos and xenos. Aside from her and Miko there was only one flesh-and-blood female in the room…

Dee-vi bounded gleefully up the dais steps, then turned toward them, seating herself triumphantly on the throne. She laughed at their surprise, like a mischievous kid sitting in her elder’s seat. Only this was for real. The Flower Princess was the Sacred Queen’s daughter only in a metaphorical sense.

“Do you have anything to add?” Dee-vi asked. “Any more proof to offer?” It was plain that their interview with the Sacred Queen had been going on throughout their stay at Apex.

Tiffany stood at the foot of the dais, digesting this diplomatic surprise, shocked at how easily she had been fooled. She had run her sensors over Dee-vi repeatedly; all she had seen was a happy headstrong kid, eager to learn and utterly open. She had never thought to ask Dee-vi if she were the Sacred Queen.

She shook her head. “Why did we have to go through the motions of stealing a ship?” That seemed an unneeded hazard.

“You said you were a diplomat. I wanted to see.” Dee-vi said it the way a child would. She had been half testing Tiffany, and half just wanting to see for herself.

Tiffany surveyed the chamber, looking for anything that might bolster her case. Her gaze fixed on the Hive Queen, rearing over the humans and holos like some titanic centipede. “Ask the Bugs.”

“Ask them what?” Now Dee-vi looked surprised.

“They can chart the course of that white giant I told you about, Orion 4673.” Humans might turn inward, trying to seal themselves off from the cosmos—but not Bugs. Bugs were great celestial navigators. (But bad shipbuilders.) In fact, it was probably the Bugs who kept the Flower Princess informed of the Hiryu’s movements.

“It will be done,” Dee-vi nodded gravely. “But we have already seen enough to make our decision. What would you have us do?”

Tiffany felt triumphant, seeing success at last. “What we do depends on what you have got. Miko’s the pilot. She needs to check out your drive. The specs also showed you having a hangar full of low-boost insystem ships. Is that true?”

Dee-vi nodded. “We have ships. In what condition I would not know, we never use them.”

“Great. I would like to see them.” Tiffany was already making plans that went beyond Floreal—thinking of that woebegone Choctaw girl in the Danse Macabre.

It was some time before she got to see the hangar—which did indeed have a row of insystem ships, sleek old-fashioned cargo lighters that looked good as new. By then Miko had passed on the habitat’s gravity drive. Floreal could be moved. And not just Floreal. If these ships worked as well, they could take everyone left in the B system with them. But that meant opening up the habitat to strangers, which would require still more diplomacy.

Ja-lan had joined them—there being no women’s mysteries on the hanger deck—happily looking over the line of ships. Tiffany could tell he liked the turn of events. Apex must have seemed pretty small to a man of his talents. Now Floreal herself was looking outward. Who knew what the future held?

Miko cautioned everyone not to get carried away. “We have to see if they will fly.” She cycled the lock on the nearest lighter. It worked. Miko nodded to Tiffany. “Want to check it with me?”

Sure. Her future plans depended on these ships. They cycled through. As soon as they were alone, Miko pulled her face down and kissed her.

Surprised, Tiffany managed to respond, then asked, “What was that for?”

“For everything. For giving us all a chance.” Miko leaned back against the bulkhead, her hand on the lock lever, keeping it from cycling. She nodded at the closed hatch. “You like him, don’t you?”

“You mean Ja-lan? Sure.” He was sharp, and sweet, and hung like a hippogriff. “What’s not to like?”

Miko hooked her finger into the waist of Tiffany’s gi, pulling her closer. “I mean, you really go for that ‘Ah shucks, I’m just a guy’ stuff?”

Tiffany looked puzzled. “Well, who wouldn’t?”

Miko rolled her eyes.

Tiffany braced her arms against the bulkhead, framing the smaller woman’s shoulders. “Look at me.”

“Gladly.” Miko smirked. They were only centimeters apart and in love. What else was there to see?

“I’m trying to save not just Floreal, but this whole forsaken system,” Tiffany told her. “Maybe even the overflow from Belt City. Which means holding off looters and wreckers, while convincing these people to risk everything for the sake of others. In the meantime, I have been beset by Jutes, Choctaws, Eridani slavers, and Bugs gone berserk. And I am in the middle of a relationship with another woman—something I have never, never done before. So am I really going to start up with some guy, just because he happens to be sweet, brave, and available? Who do you think I am? Superwoman?”

“Sometimes.” Miko rose on her toes and kissed her again.