The Stone Sky (The Broken Earth #3)(120)
There was no arguing with that, no recourse. Even if Ingray had been traveling with Netano Aughskold, who had herself not infrequently demanded (and received) such priority, it wouldn’t have done any good, and not just because this wasn’t Netano’s home system. The Geck were aliens, not human. They almost never left their homeworld, or so Ingray understood, and had done so now only to attend to urgent matters regarding the treaty with the alien Presger. Before the treaty, the Presger would tear apart human ships and stations – and their passengers and residents – seemingly at a whim. Nothing could stop them, nothing except the treaty, which the Radchaai ruler Anaander Mianaai had signed in the name of all humanity; the Presger apparently did not understand or care about whether there might be different sorts of humans, with different authorities. But no matter how anyone felt about the Radchaai taking on that authority, no one wanted the Presger to start killing people again.
Eventually the Geck had also become signatories, and much more recently the Rrrrrr. And now there was a potential third new nonhuman signatory to the treaty, and a conclave, called by the Presger, to decide the issue. Probably everyone anywhere in the unthinkably vast reaches of human-inhabited space was aware of it, had opinions, wanted to know more, wanted to know how this conclave would affect their futures.
Ingray couldn’t bring herself to care just now. “I can’t wait two days,” she said. Captain Uisine said nothing, didn’t make the obvious comment – there was no avoiding the wait, and he had no control over it. Didn’t take his hand off the end of the crate. Probably wise – Ingray didn’t know how to turn off the assist. “I just can’t.”
“Why not?” he asked. Serious, but not, it seemed, terribly invested in Ingray’s particular problems.
Ingray closed her eyes. She would not cry. Opened her eyes again, took a breath, and said, “I spent everything I had settling up at my lodgings this morning.”
“You’re broke.” Captain Uisine’s eyes flicked to Ingray’s bag and jacket and sandals still perched on top of the crate.
“I can’t not eat for two days.” She should have had breakfast that morning. She should have eaten some cakes, when she was dealing with the Facilitator.
“Well, you can,” said Captain Uisine. “As long as you have water. But what about your friend?”
Ingray frowned. “My friend?”
“The person you’re traveling with. Can they help you out?”
“Um.”
Captain Uisine waited, still noncommittal. It occurred to Ingray that even if Captain Uisine charged for carrying the crate in cargo, it would likely be less than a passenger fare. Maybe she’d have enough to at least buy a meal or two between now and when the ship finally left. “And while you’re thinking about that,” the captain added before Ingray could speak, “you can show me the Statement of Contents for the crate.”
For a panicked moment, Ingray tried to think of some way to argue that she shouldn’t have to show one. Then she remembered that so far the Facilitator seemed to have anticipated what she would need to bring the crate away with her. She pulled her personal messages into her vision again, and there it was. “I’ve just sent it to you,” she said.
Captain Uisine blinked, and gazed off into the distance. “Miscellaneous biologicals,” he said after a few moments, focusing again on Ingray. “In a crate this size and shape? I’m sorry, excellency, but I didn’t hatch this morning. I’ll be exercising my right to examine the contents myself, as outlined in the fare agreement. Otherwise that crate is not coming aboard.”
Damn. “So,” said Ingray, “the person I’m traveling with is in here.”
“In the crate?” He seemed entirely unsurprised.
“In a suspension pod in the crate, yes,” Ingray replied. “I didn’t expect em to come this way, I thought I would just, you know, meet em and bring em here, and…” She trailed off, at a loss how to explain any further.
“Do you have authorizations permitting you to remove this person from Tyr Siilas? And before you mention it, I am aware that such authorizations aren’t always legally necessary here. I, however, do always require them.”
“An authorization to take someone on your ship?” Ingray frowned, bewildered. “You didn’t need one for me. You didn’t ask me for one, for… my friend.”
Still not changing expression, Captain Uisine said, “I don’t transport anyone against their will. I say that specifically in the fare agreement.” Which Ingray had read, of course; she was no fool. But obviously she hadn’t remembered that. Hadn’t thought, at that point, that it would be an issue. “I can ask you right now, do you want to leave Tyr Siilas and go to Hwae…”
“I do!” Ingray interjected.
“… and you can tell me that.” His voice was still serious and even. “This person cannot tell me if e wants to go where you are taking em. I don’t doubt there’s some very compelling reason you are bringing em aboard in a suspension pod. I would like to be sure that compelling reason is eirs, and not just yours.”