“The ships are all around us, but they’re keeping their distance,” Janice said on the shipwide channel. “They look a little like black glass hummingbirds, don’t they? Swarming around us like we’re a bird feeder. Ha.”

  Callie transmitted again. “I repeat. I am captain Kalea–”

  “We heard you the first time.” The voice sounded human – male and avuncular, even. That didn’t mean much: the Liars had technology that could mimic human voices, and often did, since their own language was mostly gesture, color change, and, in atmosphere, pheromones, none of which humans were much good at interpreting. “We were trying to decide whether it would be impolite to laugh. You don’t ‘intend to engage in hostilities?’ You destroyed one of our patrol ships, and apparently stole its navigational data so you could sneak in here.”

  “I think I mentioned that thing about defending ourselves. Your patrol ship was aggressive.”

  “The ships have instructions to apprehend anyone they find. They wouldn’t have harmed you.”

  “Ah, but see, being apprehended against my will counts as harm, as far as I’m concerned. We tried to talk to the ship. It wouldn’t talk back. I’m glad you’re smarter than that, or at least more polite.”

  “I am smarter than you can imagine. We’re going to have to insist on apprehension, though. We do not welcome unannounced visitors. I’d think, after a century, that would be apparent, even to your species.”

  “Who am I talking to?” Callie said. “Failure to introduce yourself is also impolite.”

  “I am the Weaver of Worlds.”

  Liars sometimes named themselves peculiar things. “Is that a job title or a given name?”

  “Both. I embody my office, and when my body is gone, another will take my place. That won’t be today, though. I am in charge of all traffic to, from, and within this system. You are trespassing.”

  “We’ve been sent to find out what the hell is going on out here,” Callie said. “The Vanir system went dark over a century ago. We thought you were all dead.”

  “Surely there were other theories than mass extinction?” The voice sounded amused.

  “Sure. My own theory has always been that a radical isolationist political faction took over the system and just started looting the incoming ships and press-ganging or murdering the people on board. Or maybe it’s a doomsday cult. Some people think it’s a wormhole bridge malfunction. A lot of people back home are worried the colonists think we abandoned them. That the ships we sent here over the years never made it through, and maybe the ships you tried to send to us never made it, either. We were worried about you, basically. We’ve only recently developed the point-to-point wormhole technology necessary to come check on your well-being… but it seems like you’ve got that kind of tech, too, which makes us wonder why you haven’t come home for a visit in all this time.”

  “Oh, you know how it is. We’re a colony of introverts. We prefer to keep to ourselves. Can we expect more visitors?”

  “Of course,” Callie said. “We were sent to get the lay of the land. When we don’t come back, the TNA will send more delegations to check on us, and they might be more heavily armed. The Imperative has been talking about sending another mission, and the Inner Planets Governing Council still takes a million years of parliamentary debate before they decide anything, but they’ll make their way here eventually, too. The Vanir system is a giant enigma, and a lot of people want to solve it. Care to fill me in so I can go back and let them know?”

  “You’ll learn a lot via deductive reasoning, I suspect,” the Weaver said. “We’re going to send a boarding party. Then we’ll bring you over to our medical team, to make sure none of you have been injured. Your well-being is very important to us.”

  “We’re all fine, thanks. We have a first-rate infirmary on board.”

  “Our medical technology is much more advanced than yours. It’s for your own good, really. If nothing else, we should immunize you against the local diseases. We’ve had plenty of time alone to grow wonderful new germs here, and some of them would just devour you.”

  “Look, Weaver, I understand we popped up in your shipyard, but to be honest, I didn’t come to talk to an air traffic controller. I’m a diplomat from a major power in the Sol system, and I need to talk to whatever passes for a central government here.”

  “I’m sure someone from the labs will come by to take a look at you. They’re always interested in new flesh, and it’s been a year since any arrived through the bridge. Some of the healers have been advocating sending out raiding parties in search of fresh meat, but if you really are the vanguard of a whole new round of visitors that could solve the problem for us. We’ll be with you soon, Captain Machedo. I’d suggest you open the door to the boarding party. Otherwise, they’ll have to cut their way in, and someone might be hurt.”

  “They closed the comm channel,” Janice said.

  “Fresh meat?” Ashok said. “What, are they cannibals? That’s a pretty good reason to go isolationist, I guess, it’s one of the super common taboos. Cannibalism, incest, murdering your parents – found a nation on any of those principles and your neighbors are going to be reluctant to open diplomatic relations with you.”

  “Oh good,” Janice said in a voice of lead. “There’s a ship approaching, and it wants to connect with the airlock. What’s the plan?”

  “We’ve done all we can. I’m going down to meet our visitors.” Callie stood up from her chair, gave Elena’s hand a last squeeze, and descended.

  A Liar wearing a bright yellow environment suit drifted through the airlock, its multitude of large, emerald-green eyes gazing at her through the faceplate, its even dozen pseudopods undulating. A pair of those biomechanical hunter-drones flanked it.

  Callie moved her arm in the human imitation of the Liar greeting, a sort of sine-wave that she had too many bones to accurately replicate, but what the hell. The Liar undulated in return, chuckling from its artificial voicebox. “You’ve spent time among my cousins, I see.”

  “Are you the Weaver of Worlds, or did you all just decide to economize by using the same vocal software?”

  “I am the Weaver, yes. We don’t get many visitors, and the ones we do don’t show up here, so I thought I’d come in person to get a look at you. Novelty is such a pleasure, don’t you find?”

  One of his guards extruded a cord and plugged into the control panel by the door. Callie gritted her teeth. “Did your lackey there need help with something? Trying to place a local call?”

  “Just checking on a few things. Your weapon systems. Your crew manifest. Minor details.”

  Shall whispered in her ear. “Their intrusion technology is ancient, Callie, but it’s strong – brutal, really. I got the fake diplomatic credentials in place, and I’ll put up some token resistance, then let them access everything we haven’t partitioned away. Let them think they broke into the whole system and they won’t go looking for secret files, I hope.”

  Artificial intelligences like Shall had been created after the Vanir system went dark, and Callie didn’t think anything like him had ever been sent through the bridge – the Jovian Imperative military had strict rules against allowing AI onto its ships, basically because their high command was full of elderly paranoiacs. The Axiom hadn’t been interested in creating rival intelligences, either, so it was a good bet the Vanir didn’t know true AI existed. Callie’s crew needed every advantage they could get so Shall was lurking, hiding in a partition in the ship’s systems, along with all the data indicating he even existed… among other secrets Callie wanted to keep.

  The Weaver consulted a handheld terminal and said, “Let’s see, we’ve got you, your executive officer and ship’s doctor Elena Oh, pilot Drake Alleyne, navigator and communications specialist Janice Grímsdóttir, and engineer Ashok Ranganathan. Hmm. Small crew.”

  “We like to stay nimble.” Callie crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, we’re apprehended. What next?”

  “Call the rest of your crew down here and we’ll transport you over to my ship, and take you someplace you’ll be more comfortable. Then my little helpers will do a sweep of the ship, to make sure you don’t have any stowaways who aren’t listed on the manifest, as a courtesy. We’d hate for you to be taken unawares.”

  “I’m not so sure I want to accompany you. All that stuff you said about fresh meat wasn’t very welcoming.”

  “Oh, did I misuse a human idiom? I’m terribly sorry. I just meant… newcomers.”

  “I’m sure you did. And these labs you mentioned? These healers?”

  “The Vanir system is a meritocratic technocracy, captain. Our highest echelons are populated by those devoted to the healing arts. Doctors, surgeons, medical researchers. What greater calling can there be, after all?”

  Callie almost said, ‘Glory to the Exalted,’ but there was no reason to let them know they’d been able to translate the burst of Axiom language. She decided to say something else rude instead. “Sounds like a more important job than directing traffic, Double-W.”

  “How droll. Why, I can’t remember when anyone has ever dared to give me a diminutive nickname.”

  “You don’t get sent to head a delegation to a system that eats starships because you lack courage,” Callie said.

  “You’d think a complete lack of diplomacy would be a drawback in a diplomat. But what do I know? I just direct traffic. Get your crew down here. Or shall I send someone to fetch them?”

  The crew duly assembled and the Weaver glanced at Elena, openly goggled at Ashok, and then gazed thoughtfully at Drake and Janice’s mobility chair with its mirrored privacy screen. “Where’s the last one?” he demanded.

  “Drake and Janice travel together.” Callie gestured at the chair.

  The Weaver grunted and glanced at his associate plugged into the ship, who made a complicated gesture. The Weaver grunted again. “Very well. Come see your new home.”

  “We’re not staying, Dubya.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” the Liar said serenely.

  Elena was trying hard not to tremble but Callie seemed absolutely cool, Ashok looked around like a kid at a county fair, and Drake and Janice were silent and hidden behind their mirrored visor.

  They were on the asteroid and had already theatrically exclaimed over the presence of artificial gravity. Remembering to pretend they didn’t know anything about Axiom tech – beyond the bridge generator, anyway – was an effort. The Weaver and his guards had marched them down a series of wide corridors and now they were in a sort of lobby, all beige walls and battered waiting-room chairs, with three doors in three walls.

  “We’ll start with Dr Ranganathan, I think,” the Weaver began, or tried to.

  “Ashok has severe separation anxiety,” Callie said. “I have to insist we stay together.”

  Elena simultaneously wished Callie wouldn’t needle the people who had all the power in this situation, and was proud of her for never being afraid of anyone or anything – or at least not showing it.

  “If you try to separate us, I will explode.” Ashok thumped his chest. “I have this amazing reactor inside me and it will just go boom. It’s because of the panic attacks, you see.”

  “I don’t care. You can all go in together. You’ll end up in the same place anyway.” The Weaver gestured and his guard opened a door that led into a long room, gleaming white and glinting with shiny equipment and rows of empty hospital beds in Liar and human sizes.

  Callie marched in, head high, with Elena behind her, Ashok clumping after, and Drake and Janice’s chair rolling along placidly behind them.

  “Hello visitors!” a human called. He waved at them cheerfully. “I’m Doctor Metcalf, head of surgery for this station.” He stood at the far end of the exam room, behind a long counter covered in beakers and racks of test tubes, centrifuges and microscopes, and other equipment Elena didn’t recognize. He was probably in his sixties, with messy white hair, steel-rimmed glasses (an affectation, surely, or else diagnostic lenses; they could fix eyesight even in places that weren’t ruled by surgeon-kings), and an unkempt beard and mustache. He looked portly and friendly and busy and distracted, like scores of researchers Elena had known in her time as a biologist. She tried very hard not to let his basic familiarity put her at ease.

  That became a lot easier when he stepped out from behind the counter, because his lower body was composed of a dozen fat Liar pseudopods that carried him bonelessly toward them.

  CHAPTER 12

  “Want.” Ashok moved forward to meet him, circling around the doctor, looking in awe at his pseudopods. “Those are amazing.”

  “You should see me tap dance.” Dr Metcalf giggled. Ashok liked him instantly, which he realized didn’t mean much. He liked everyone, because everyone was interesting on some level, and he liked being interested. The others weren’t taking Metcalf’s augmentations as well, though. Callie looked grossed-out, and Elena was doing that thing where she vivisected you with her eyes.

  Now it was Metcalf’s turn to circle Ashok, who posed obligingly with his arms outstretched. “You are remarkable yourself! We do a little bit of biomechanical work here, but our focus is more firmly biological, and this level of integration – it’s amazing.”

  “See, back home, nobody is creative like this,” Ashok gestured. “We can regrow a lost limb, get new organs cloned off old ones, stuff like that, but cross-species biological body hacking? I think there are about a million laws against even trying it in most polities.”

  “People are so short-sighted,” Metcalf said. “We’re great believers in scientific liberty here in the Vanir system. No avenue to advancement should ever be closed.”

  “Couldn’t agree more, doc,” Ashok said. “And let me applaud your self-experimentation.”

  “Hmm? Oh, the legs? No, we perfected this before I submitted to it myself. These sort of upgrades are strongly encouraged if you want to rise through the ranks of the Exalted. They show dedication to the vision of our leaders. Not that I haven’t tried out a few innovations first on myself, you know – sometimes you come up with a wonderful idea and you don’t want someone else to do it first–”

  “Not to break up the mutual appreciation society, but what are we doing here?” Callie said. “I need to see someone in authority. I’m a goddamn diplomat.”

  Metcalf pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Oh, of course, please, I just need to do some basic medical scans, just a moment.” Metcalf scuttled over to a terminal covered in Axiom symbols, tapped at the screen, then said, “This might sting.”

  “What might sting,” Callie said, and then they all winced as the room pulsed with blinding white and purple light. Ashok’s exposed flesh – what there was of it – went cold, then hot, then horripilated, and then for just an instant felt like it was being scraped off with a vegetable peeler. It must have been worse for the people with more skin, because Elena screamed and Callie grunted like someone had punched her and Drake and Janice keened in harmony. The agony was brief but memorable, and Ashok shivered all over when it subsided.

  “There, it only hurt a moment,” Metcalf said cheerfully.

  “The whole room is a body scanner?” Elena wobbled, then her legs gave way and she sat down hard on the floor.

  “Oh yes,” Metcalf said. “I scan myself daily. Some of the things we play with just love turning into cancer, and it’s best to catch the tumors early, of course. Now let’s see… Oh. Oh, my.” He turned. “Doctor Oh, is it? Where are you from?”

  “Earth.”

  “Yes. Right. Earth. In that case – when are you from?”

  “You don’t have to tell him anything, Elena,” Callie said. She’d remained upright through the scan, but she was grinding her teeth, and she had an expression Ashok had seen before. It made him want to hide behind a bulkhead for safety.

  Metcalf cocked his head. “Are you upset? I’m just trying to take a medical history. My scans show evidence of a long stint in cryo-sleep, followed by a much shorter one, and she’s just full of contaminants and antibodies that haven’t existed on Earth since long before our system chose to withdraw from galactic commerce to focus our energies inward. I’d hazard a guess that she was on the crew of a goldilocks ship, perhaps even from one of the first waves sent out in the 22nd century. Am I close?”

  “Close enough,” Elena said.

  “And you, Ashok, you’re even more remarkable than I’d expected.” He flicked at the screen, scanning alien symbols. “The anti-rejection medications developed to keep your body from treating your mechanical implants like foreign objects, they must be far beyond anything we have here. We do little tricks with gene therapy for our biological implants, but this is an entirely different paradigm… oh, my, heads are going to spin when the other scientists get a look at you.”

  “I am an amazing machine man,” Ashok agreed.

  “And Drake and Janice…”

  “We don’t want to talk about it,” Janice said. Ashok knew he didn’t have the keenest insight into the emotional lives of others, but it occurred to him that all this medical stuff was probably especially unpleasant for Drake and Janice, given their own history as the subjects of medical experiments.

  “Your case is very interesting, too, then,” Metcalf said. “I’ll leave it at that.”

  “What about me?” Callie said.

  “You’re a baseline human. Healthy enough, though I’d keep an eye on your bone density. You’re past your reproductive peak, and you never bothered with that anyway. There are minor variations in your immune system as compared to our local population, but it’s not extreme.” He shrugged. “Nothing of interest.”

  “You’ve got quite the bedside manner there, Metcalf.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean anything rude – I’m sorry. You are useful as a control subject, to show what baseline humans are like in the Sol system currently, though we have some samples that came through the bridge last year.”