Free Children of Hope by David Feintuch

changing the subject, the middy turned to his companion. “Tad, remember what we were saying about intrasystem officers?”
    “That they don’t get real experience?”
    “Listen to this. That joey at the terminal desk says a local mining ship spotted a fish near Three. Comm room sent out a false alarm.”
    “Spotted a what?” I stopped dead. No fish had been seen for decades; they were obliterated by Seafort’s caterwaul stations. The unmanned stations broadcast a skewed N-wave that summoned the aliens to destruction. N-waves allowed us to Fuse, to travel between the stars at something akin to superluminous speeds, but the fish sensed us Fuse and Defuse, and it drove them to frenzy. The caterwaul stations lured the fish with a skewed wave, crisped them with automatic laser fire. We lost stations, but that didn’t matter. Eventually the last fish were destroyed.
    “A fish,” repeated the middy. “But it wasn’t one. It didn’t attack. They blasted it to hell, whatever it was. Probably an ice mass.”
    I nodded. Fish always attacked. Every Nationeer was taught our history, at least that part.
    The lieutenant looked thoughtful. “Not every asteroid radiates as metal. An excited tech …”
    Mik nodded knowingly. “Like you said. Never trust an officer from an intrasystem ship.” He and his lieutenant exchanged knowing glances.
    I bridled. “Not every competent sailor is in your precious Navy.” One of Dad’s long-standing goals had been to break the U.N. Navy’s stranglehold on interstellar shipping, and Anth was just as determined.
    “Sure, joey.”
    I gritted my teeth and ignored the condescension in his tone.
    Anselm waved at the haphazard rows of stalls. “What’s to see beyond this goofjuice?”
    Kevin said brightly, “There’s downtown, the Cathedral, the Zone, the Ventura Mountains …”
    “Pa said I shouldn’t miss the mountains,” said the middy.
    “Downtown would be a good start,” Anselm judged. “Are there guides for hire?”
    “Not really …” Kevin shot me a warning glance. “Tell you what: we’ll show you Centraltown, I’ll even take you to the Zone.”
    “How much?” The lieutenant eyed him suspiciously.
    “Nothing, just for fun. How about giving us a tour of the ship after?” Kev seemed to hold his breath.
    The two officers exchanged glances. “I could,” Mik said. “Pa and I are having dinner tomorrow.”
    “He still won’t come down? It’d be a chance to get away from—” He lowered his voice. “Pandeker.”
    “He doesn’t want to risk it.”
    “All right, joeys, you’ve got a deal.” Anselm looked about. “Where do we rent an electricar?”
    “You didn’t call ahead? By now they’re all taken. Let’s catch the bus.”
    Kevin chattered all the way downtown, pointing out new construction, our older landmarks, the edge of the devastation left by the asteroid a generation back, just before the U.N. Navy fled and left us to our fate. From time to time I joined in, supplementing his meager supply of facts. Perhaps living with the Stadholder was an advantage; I knew more about Centraltown than Kev, a local.
    Mik and Tad half listened, enjoying themselves just peering out the windows. Hope Nation was their first planetfall since Earth, eighteen months past. No doubt they simply enjoyed the open spaces.
    We went to the Cathedral; I held my breath and tried to look inconspicuous. No one noticed us, under the vaulting roof and the tall Gothic stained-glass windows. Then hours tramping about downtown, a midafternoon meal at one of the better restaurants. The two sailors paid for us all.
    Then uptown, past Churchill Park. To my surprise, Kev stopped at our, um, his house. He bounded up the steps, threw open the door, ushered our two guests inside, showed them everything including his disordered bedroom.
    We heard the door close, downstairs. A chipcase and holovid tucked under his arm, Mr Dakko stopped short, stunned at the mad clatter of footsteps down the