The sea of clouds, p.1
The Sea of Clouds, page 1
The Sea
Of
Clouds
Sheila JennÉ
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
THE SEA OF CLOUDS. Copyright 2024 © Sheila Jenné. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information visit www.midnightmeadowpublishing.com.
Cover design by Elizabeth Jeannel
ISBN 978-1-956037-44-9 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-956037-43-2 (paperback)
ISBN 978-1-956037-42-5 (eBook)
First Edition
First Edition: August 2024
This eBook edition first published in 2024
Published by Midnight Meadow Publishing
www.midnightmeadowpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
6 May, Martian Imperial Year 500
I arrived at Phobos, after a months-long journey from Liberty Station, carrying nothing but a small duffle full of second-hand kit. It hadn’t been an enjoyable trip. More like the subtle version of being transported home in irons. The ship, unlike most, was equipped with a long-distance radio antenna, through which the details of my late adventures had flashed their way to Phobos ahead of me. By the time I arrived, the Admiralty knew as much about the loss of Liberty Station as anyone in the Navy knew.
Anyone, that is, but me. Fitting my testimony into the exact shape of what they knew had taken up most of my time on the voyage. I would have to explain to the Admiralty how I had managed to lose the Empire’s most valuable economic and strategic resource, without letting slip any of the truth, which was that I’d done it on purpose.
The easy thing, after turning coat and betraying Mars to the rebels, would have been to stay on the station, let them write me down as a deserter. Next easiest would be to pretend it had never happened and try to be a loyal officer from there on out.
But I had chosen neither of those courses. I was here to spy on the Martian Imperial Navy, to do it so brazenly no one guessed, and to do it effectively enough that it gave the rebels some kind of advantage.
The first thing any spy needs is a private communications channel, so I followed the sign that read Radio Office, trailing my duffel behind me. The faint gravity brushed at my inner ear, no good for pinning anybody’s feet to the floor, but enough to tell me which way was down.
I handed myself along the wall, dodging clumsy landsmen who didn’t know how to handle the microgravity. Last time I’d been here, I’d been one of those lubbers, barely able to handle my own duffle. It was quiet here today; no riots or graffiti. I wondered if that meant the unrest on Mars had simmered down too.
The radio office was staffed with a number of clerks, none of whom appeared to be the man I was looking for. I parked myself in the food court across the concourse and waited. If they were on three shifts, sooner or later I’d get a look at all of them.
The crowds passing through Phobos looked the same as ever: enlisted spacers in white, officers in dark blue, civilians in every color. The military sailors were more numerous, but there was plenty of civilian shipping still passing through, even despite the embargo from Earth.
Somewhere down the concourse rang a chime. Eight bells. The clerks across the way went inside their office and new clerks came out. Including one who matched the description I’d been given: short, slim, dark, three rings in the right ear, tattoo running from his jaw down to his neck.
I waited a few minutes before getting slowly to my feet and dragging my duffel onto my shoulder. Looked up the concourse, looked down, checked my pocket watch. Didn’t want to look too purposeful.
The man with the three earrings hovered behind the counter in a close approximation of standing. “Good evening, sir, may I help you?”
That marked him as a Navy man, at least by background, though he wasn’t in uniform. A civilian would have said “miss.” I put one elbow on the counter, as if to lean, though I had no weight to lean with. “I need to send a message,” I said. “I need you to tell the Tall Jockey that Lafayette arrived.”
CHAPTER ONE
15 May, MIY 500
Moira
The pirate king of Liberty Station was in a mood. You could tell by the way the Martian deserters forgot themselves and knuckled their foreheads and called him sir, imagining they could soothe his temper with careful discipline, like they had for their old Navy captains. You could tell by the way some of the Earther pirates stomped around as if they were under one g, looking like prancing ponies when they shot up much higher than they meant to under the Mars-normal gravity.
But mainly you could tell by the shouting. I could hear it from clear out on the concourse. “If you CAN’T BE ARSED to CLEAN THE BLOODY WATER TUBES like I FUCKING TOLD YOU, then I don’t know why we’re WASTING STATION AIR on a FUCKING MUDEATER!”
The door of the office slammed open and Coelho came out. The commandant, they would have called him on a Martian station. Coelho didn’t have an official title, but we called him the pirate king and meant it. He had the campy style of one, and the temper to boot. His dark curls glistened with hair oil, and his red velvet coat went down to his knees. All he needed was a gouty foot to complete the picture.
Behind him stumbled one of the Earth pirates, dragged by one arm. She was a younger spacer, eyes wide with fear, gabbling, “I’ll do it, I swear, I just got behind—”
He crossed the concourse to the nearest airlock, cranked it open, and flung her in. She cowered on the far side, too afraid of him to make a break for it.
I pushed away from the wall. Not interfering, yet, but ready to.
Coelho cranked the lock shut and stood, arms folded, fuming, for a long minute. At last he cranked it back open and let the girl out. “Just don’t let it happen again,” he said at last, while she hiccuped and rubbed at her streaming eyes. She bolted for the water reclamation system, and he stalked back to his office.
Only when the door was shut did I lean back against the wall. “I thought I was done seeing airlockings when I left the Navy,” I muttered to Marron, who sat in his wheelchair next to me.
He let out a short bark of laughter. “I can tell you didn’t serve long with Coelho,” he said. “They’re his favorite. And he doesn’t always let them out.”
I frowned. “He’d better not try it on any of my men.”
“He’d have a mutiny on his hands,” Marron agreed. “Speaking of ...”
I looked over at him. His graying head, as he sat in his chair, came only to my elbow. It was strange to have him there—in space, he was always at eye level if he wanted to be. The gravity here on Liberty was too much for his space-wasted legs, and he needed the chair if he didn’t want to risk breaking the brittle bones. “I don’t follow.”
“Some of the men don’t care for Coelho. Our old crew especially. And if you wanted the job for yourself... I’m just saying, you wouldn’t get much opposition.”
My chin jerked up. “I came here to get away from the Navy, and because once I’d done that, I needed somewhere to be. I didn’t have any illusions about what it was going to be like. I know pirates aren’t idealists.”
“Some of us are,” he said. “Lucy really got me steamed up, talking about Mars. She got this station for you. Because she wanted to build something that was better than where both of you came from. At this point I’d be heading back to Mars myself, to overthrow the whole classist mess, if my legs worked.” He gave them a sharp slap.
I folded my arms across my chest. “If you came from Mars, you wouldn’t talk like that. Don’t you think if the Emprex could be knocked off their throne, just like that, we would have done it by now? After a while, you stop daydreaming of making it better and settle for at least getting away from it. Which I did.”
He craned his neck to look up at me. Embarrassed, I slid down the wall into a crouch. Not fair to tower
I looked away. “She needed a reason to go.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You lied to her?”
“I told her she could keep an eye on it for us. That’s all. I just—I couldn’t stand the idea that she could go home and would choose not to.”
“She would have stayed for you!”
“But she didn’t want to,” I argued. “It was obvious. Or would have been, if she’d thought about it for two seconds. She sacrificed so much for her family. If she’d stayed with me, if the word had gotten out she’d deserted, her family would have lost everything. She might have said it was fine at the time, but I knew she’d resent me forever. The only person she loves more than me is her brother.”
“I think she loves you more,” said Marron quietly.
I gave my head a tight, sour shake. “Evidence says no. Because I gave her the choice and she chose to leave.”
He glared at me, his black eyes shining out from a sea of deep brown wrinkles. “Chose? Bullshit. You sent her away and she did it because she thought she could help you that way, and you’re not doing shit with her sacrifice.”
I snapped back to my feet. “If I could free Mars for her, I would, okay? But I can’t. We can’t even make this fucking station run right.”
It was true. The dream had been to recruit pirate ships to run the mining routes and sell the gasses back to Mars. But we had gotten few ships to sign on. There was more profit in piracy.
Interrupting my thoughts, Coelho’s door swung open again and his curly head popped out. “Moira, in.”
I pushed off the wall and sauntered over, not too quickly. I’d dealt with more vicious commanders than him. But I could feel Marron’s eyes on my back as I walked away.
Coelho threw himself back into the large chair behind the desk and put his boots up on the table. “Lost another ship today. Martian ship Utopian Sunrise, on its way here loaded with everything we wanted. Close enough to hear the distress call, too far to help.”
I nodded. I’d assumed his temper tantrum had stemmed from something of the kind. “Been a while since one has made it through.” I sat down in the chair across from him, without having been invited to. My little way of not deferring to him like everyone else did.
He didn’t seem to notice. “We’re self-sufficient enough to manage for a while, but we’re losing money every day we’re out here. This isn’t what I expected.”
I shrugged. “Well, it’s not like Earth was paying you much either.”
“Better than this!” He pulled one foot off the desk and leaned forward over the other. “I’ve got half a mind to ditch the whole thing. Go back to piracy. Knauss would forgive me if I gave her the station.”
My heart raced. I looked languidly away—an automatic reaction to tension, becoming even more casual. If Lucy couldn’t get me to betray my feelings, Coelho certainly couldn’t. “You could probably do that,” I said.
“What would you do, if I did?”
“Dunno. Knock around the system. See what work my crew and I could find.”
He frowned. Probably disappointed at not getting a bigger reaction. He tried a more blatant approach. “Are you loyal to me, Moira?”
I blinked at him. “You gave me my ship. Of course I couldn’t forget that.”
“There’s talk, around the station. Maybe you’ve heard it.”
“Some things. All bullshit. I’ve seen your job; I don’t want it.”
“Well, then. If I can trust you. I have a job for you.” He took his other leg off the table and sat up straight. “We’ve got to drive those pirates off the route between here and Mars. I know how they’re thinking. It’s cost-benefit. Without the Martian navy hanging around, it’s easy pickings to get the merchant ships passing back and forth. I need you to take the Mariposa and take the upstream route. Take or destroy as many pirate ships as you can. Make it too risky to be a good bargain.”
The undercurrent of his words was easy to detect: I don’t trust you, I need you away from the station, and your crew too.
But what could I do? It was do as he said or mutiny like Marron wanted. And I had had my fill of that already. Coelho wasn’t my choice of leader, but he was keeping Liberty going and that was all I really wanted. If we could get it functional, it would help Mars as much as the pirates—erasing the harm we’d done to Mars’s war effort against Earth, and keeping the terraforming project.
But I couldn’t set my goals any higher than that. Lucy was different. Lucy had ideals, always had. Disillusion her about the Empire, and it only made her want to take it down and replace it with something better. She would never believe that a certain amount of horribleness was always going to be there. Any more than she’d believe that here, on her precious Liberty Station, people were still getting thrown into airlocks for screwing up.
“I’ll give it a shot,” I said, rising to my feet and throwing him a mock salute.
On the way to the Mariposa’s launch, I was ambushed by Marron, Nguyen, and Yao, three of my closest crew. “Are you going to do it?” demanded Nguyen, the slight young man with the goatee.
“I told Marron I wouldn’t, and he’s obviously talked to you,” I answered shortly. “What do you think would have changed?”
“He called you into his office for something,” said Yao. She was too young to be a sailor, not that that ever stopped Mars from recruiting children. “Might have been looking to pick a fight.”
“He suspects me because somebody’s talking treason around the station. Hope it wasn’t any of you.” I led the way into the airlock, where the empty gray tube of our launch was docked.
Yao cranked the door shut, and Nguyen manned the outer lock. Marron kept his eyes on me. “What did he say?”
“He’s getting rid of us,” I said. “Sending us to trawl the trade route.”
Yao’s eyes lit up. “Action.”
“Hopefully.”
“You don’t have to do it,” urged Marron. “What’s he going to do if you refuse?”
“There will be fighting,” I said. “I don’t feel like watching anyone else get thrown out an airlock. Especially not any of you.”
“I didn’t get this old without learning how to take a calculated risk,” he said. “The odds—”
“Are in our favor either way. He’s not planning to abandon the station. Sure, he doesn’t run it how I would. But he’s doing what he can, with the ships he has. If we can clear the route, he can make money. As long as he’s making money, he’ll keep Liberty as it is.”
I manned the helm. Behind me, everyone was in their places. “Cast off,” I ordered, and Yao shut off the magnet that kept the launch in place. The centrifugal force of the station flung the launch away at the speed of an express train, and for a moment we had all we could do to adjust the launch’s trajectory back toward the Mariposa. Marron included. As soon as we had cast off, he rose out of his chair and manned a rear thruster with his powerful arms.
Once the launch was aimed to match speeds with the ship, Marron made his way back up to the bows. “I can’t help but think, our trip will bring us close to Lucy.”
That detail had not been lost on me. We hadn’t even sailed yet and already my knees felt weak. Of course there wasn’t the slightest chance we’d cross paths; even if by some miracle Lucy was stationed to a ship heading toward Liberty, I wouldn’t be able to say a word for fear of breaking her cover.
But somehow the thought of even crossing orbits put butterflies in my stomach.
“I know it,” I said, and started the deceleration.
CHAPTER TWO
16 Geminiad
Lucy
Officer, I miss you like crazy. Things got dramatic here at Liberty; I’m going to have to take a trip soon and might not be able to write for a while.
Tell me everything about the parties you’re going to, and what you’re wearing. I wish you could send pictures this way, but I’ve got a good imagination.
I tucked Moira’s note into the bosom of my gown. It was that sort of gown, the kind that pushes up the breasts until you can barely see over them, and can stuff any number of small objects down. Not my usual knee-breeches and frock coats, but I had the feeling this was the sort of event where even half the men would be wearing gowns. Trousers don’t have enough room for the amount of lace and jewels you want to wear to an Imperial ball.
