Babel-17 (S.F. MASTERWORKS) by Samuel R. Delany

Author:Samuel R. Delany
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780575101838
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2010-11-10T22:00:00+00:00

The commons was arched and balconied, the walls dull as rock. The expanses were hung with green and crimson zodiac signs or representations of battles. And the stars – at first, she thought the light flecked void beyond the gallery columns was an actual view-port; but it was only a great hundred-foot long projection of the night beyond their ship.

Men and women sat and talked around wooden tables, or lounged by the walls. Down a broad set of steps was a wide counter filled with food and pitchers. The opening hung with pots, pans, and platters, and behind it she saw the aluminium and white recess of the galley where aproned men and women prepared dinner.

The company turned when they entered. Those nearest touched their foreheads in salute. She followed Tarik to the raised steps and walked to the cushioned benches at the top.

The griffin man came scurrying up. ‘Master, this is she?’ Tarik turned to Rydra, his rocky face softening. ‘This is my amusement, my distraction, my ease of ire, Captain Wong. In him I keep the sense of humor that all around will tell you I lack. Hey, Klik, leap up and straighten the seats for conference.’

The feathered head ducked brightly, black eye winking, and Klik whacked the cushions puffy. A moment later Tarik and Rydra sank into them.

‘Tarik,’ asked Rydra, ‘what route does your ship run?’

‘We stay in the Specelli Snap.’ He pushed his cape back from his three-knobbed shoulder. ‘What was your original position before you were caught up in the noval tide?’

‘We … took off from the War Yards at Armsedge.’

Tarik nodded. ‘You are fortunate. Most shadow-ships would have left you to emerge in the nova when your generators gave out. It would have been a rather final discorporation.’

‘I guess so.’ Rydra felt her stomach sink at the memory. Then she asked, ‘Shadow-ships?’

‘Yes. That’s Jebel Tarik.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know what a shadow-ship is.’

Tarik laughed, a soft, rough sound in the back of his throat. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well. I hope you never have occasion to wish I had not told you.’

‘Go ahead,’ Rydra said. ‘I’m listening.’

‘The Specelli Snap is radio-dense. A ship, even a mountain like Tarik, over any long-range is undetectable. It also runs across the stasis side of Cancer.’

‘That galaxy lies under the Invaders,’ Rydra said, with conditioned apprehension.

‘The Snap is the boundary along Cancer’s edge. We … patrol the area and keep the Invader ships … in their place.’

Rydra watched the hesitation in his face. ‘But not officially?’

Again he laughed. ‘How could we, Captain Wong?’ He stroked a ruff of feathers between Klik’s shoulder blades. The jester arched his back. ‘Even official warships cannot receive their orders and directions in the Snap because of the radio-density. So Administrative Alliance Headquarters is lenient with us. We do our job well; they look the other way. They cannot give us orders; neither can they supply us with weapons or provisions. Therefore we ignore certain salvage conventions and capture regulations. Stellarmen call us looters.

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