Pirate Sun by Karl Schroeder Read Free Book Online

weren’t the one in that tugboat?” he asked her.
    She hesitated, then smiled broadly and nodded. “Pretty neat trick, huh? But then I lost you again in the chaos. Took this bike out ’cause it’s faster.”
    Richard and Darius looked openly skeptical, but Chaison put out his hand for her to shake. “Then, accept my thanks for taking such risks on our behalf. I am Chaison Fanning, admiral of Slipstream. These, my companions, are Darius Martor and Richard Reiss.”
    She might be lying—but he’d seen his wife perform greater feats. He wasn’t going to take the chance—yet—that she wasn’t what she claimed to be.
    “Well met,” she said, shaking his hand firmly.
    “But why would you risk yourself for us?” asked Darius bluntly.
    “Because,” she said as she gunned the engine again, “I am Antaea Argyre, and I am a scout for the Virga home guard.”
    Before Chaison could say another word she had opened the throttle, and away they shot.

3
    “QUESTIONS, QUESTIONS,” LAUGHED their rescuer when they finally stopped, an hour later. It was full day now but Chaison had no idea where they were. The hazy sky was dotted with farms like green clouds and spherical groves of fruit trees, punctuated with the occasional blocky building and crisscrossed by the miles-long ropes that served as roads between town-wheels. They had fled farther into Falcon Formation, rather than to sunless—and empty—winter. That fact was surprising.
    Antaea Argyre had a leather-clad toe hooked through one of the bike’s foot straps; that was her only contact with the machine. They hovered near the white wall of a cloud, miles from the nearest solid object. Chaison and Darius had joined her in weightless postures next to the bike, but Richard Reiss stubbornly clung to its solidity.
    “First,” said the long-limbed winter wraith, “you’ve all asked whether your nation remains safe. I can say that it does. You’ve won your border dispute with your neighbor Mavery. There is some unrest in your capital, Rush, but I really don’t know the details of that so don’t ask me.
    “To answer your question, young master Martor, we are going deeper into Falcon because they are searching for you in winter—the other direction.” Darius nodded grudgingly.
    “As for what you muttered under your breath earlier, Mr. Ambassador, yes, winter wraiths are real and not mythical.—And we’re perfectly human, though the ancient anime-mods that make us look different from you make us shunned and persecuted by all. I am a Pacquaen, just as you are Slipstreamers.” She gazed coolly at Richard until he nodded.
    “Have you any food?” interrupted Darius. She smiled, and reached for one of the bike’s saddlebags.
    “I was wondering when you’d ask that . But as to your question, Admiral, I truly am a member of the home guard. I’m surprised that you’ve heard of us.”
    Chaison wanted to snatch the bread from her fingers. Instead, he let the other two take theirs first. It was the duty of a commander to eat last.
    “I met one of the guard in the Virga tourist station,” he said. “Some months ago.”
    Her eyes widened. “You’ve been there? You’re a remarkably well-traveled man.”
    Chaison examined her discreetly as she spoke to the other two. He was trying to make the sort of assessment of her that he routinely did with men under his command. The first thing he noticed was that her eyes were the most exotic thing about her. The rest of her face, though strangely childlike, wasn’t entirely outside the norm. Her flying leathers were of a typically Meridian design and could have been bought anywhere in Slipstream, Falcon, or Mavery. Ditto for the flying helmet, the bike, and its panniers. She did have a faint accent, but he couldn’t place it.
    The one striking exception were her split-toed, high-heeled leather boots. They laced up to just above the knee, and both were heavily scarred and scraped. The six-inch heels were blue steel,