BooksBarbecue
Back Excession
Chapters (108)
  1. About the Author
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. 1 - Outside Context Problem
  6. I
  7. II
  8. III
  9. IV
  10. V
  11. VI
  12. 2 - Not Invented Here
  13. I
  14. II
  15. III
  16. 3 - Uninvited Guests
  17. I
  18. II
  19. III
  20. IV
  21. 4 - Dependency Principle
  22. I
  23. II
  24. III
  25. IV
  26. V
  27. 5 - Kiss The Blade
  28. I
  29. II
  30. III
  31. IV
  32. V
  33. VI
  34. 6 - Pittance
  35. I
  36. II
  37. III
  38. IV
  39. V
  40. VI
  41. 7 - Tier
  42. I
  43. II
  44. III
  45. IV
  46. 8 - Killing Time
  47. I
  48. II
  49. III
  50. IV
  51. V
  52. VI
  53. VII
  54. VIII
  55. 9 - Unacceptable Behaviour
  56. I
  57. II
  58. III
  59. IV
  60. V
  61. VI
  62. VII
  63. VIII
  64. IX
  65. X
  66. XI
  67. XII
  68. XIII
  69. XIV
  70. 10 - Heavy Messing
  71. I
  72. II
  73. III
  74. IV
  75. V
  76. VI
  77. VII
  78. VIII
  79. IX
  80. X
  81. XI
  82. XII
  83. XIII
  84. XIV
  85. XV
  86. 11 - Regarding Gravious
  87. I
  88. II
  89. III
  90. IV
  91. V
  92. VI
  93. VII
  94. VIII
  95. IX
  96. X
  97. XI
  98. XII
  99. XIII
  100. XIV
  101. 12 - Faring Well
  102. I
  103. II
  104. III
  105. IV
  106. V
  107. VI
  108. Epilogue
Document

Genar-Hofoen nodded, staring at the surface of the table. ‘So who’s in charge of this?’ he asked, grinning. ‘There’s usually a Mind which acts as incident controller or whatever they call it in something like this.’

‘The Incident Coordinator is a GSV called the Not Invented Here,’ Tish told him. ‘It wants you to know you can ask whatever you want of it.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Genar-Hofoen couldn’t recall having heard of the ship. ‘And why me, particularly?’ he asked. He suspected he already had the answer to that one.

‘The Sleeper Service has been behaving even more oddly than usual,’ Tishlin said, looking suitably pained. ‘It’s altered its course schedule, it’s no longer accepting people for Storage, and it’s almost completely stopped communicating. But it says it will allow you on board.’

‘For a brow-beating, no doubt,’ Genar-Hofoen said, glancing to one side and watching a cloud pass over the meadows of the valley shown on the dining room’s projector walls. ‘Probably wants to give me a lecture.’ He sighed, still looking round the room. He fastened his gaze on Tishlin’s simulation again. ‘She still there?’ he asked.

The image nodded slowly.

‘Shit,’ Genar-Hofoen said.

III

III

‘But it makes my brain hurt.’

‘Nevertheless, Major. This is of inestimable importance.’

‘I only looked at the first bit there and it’s already given me a thumping case-ache.’

‘Still, it has to be done. Kindly read it all carefully and then I’ll explain its significance.’

‘Knot my stalks, this is a terrible thing to ask of a chap after a regimental dinner.’ Fivetide wondered if humans suffered so for their self-indulgence. He doubted it, no matter what they claimed; with the possibly honourable, possibly demented exception of Genar-Hofoen, they seemed a bit too stuffy and sensible willingly to submit to such self-punishment in the cause of fun. Besides, they were so insecure in their physical inheritance they had meddled with themselves in all sorts of ways; probably they thought hangovers were just annoying, rather than character-forming and so had, shortsightedly, dispensed with them.

‘I realise it’s early and it is the morning after the night before, Major. But please.’

The emissary - which Fivetide had met once before, and which possessed the irritating trait of looking somewhat like a better-built version of Fivetide’s dear departed father - had just appeared in the nest house without notice or warning. If he hadn’t known the way these things worked, Fivetide would right now be thinking of ways to torture the head of nest security. Tentacles had rolled, beaks had been separated, for less.

Lucky he’d been able to whip the bed covers round his deputy wife and both vice courtesans before the blighter had announced his/its presence by just floating into the nest.

Fivetide clapped his forebeak together a couple of times. Tastes like I’ve had me beak up me arse, he thought. ‘Can’t you just tell me what the damn signal means now?’ he asked.