Song of the Navigator Read Free Page A

the back. “We’re proud to have you with us.”
    Tover joined the execs as they boarded a float designed for him. A re-creation of the navport chair suspended haphazardly from a steel platform. Tover clambered into position, and the float joined the end of the parade. The congested route teemed with waving, shouting people, and the noise was immense. Usually voices drifted high to the station’s enclosure and disappeared, but tonight they resonated and the station rang like an untuned instrument. Tover’s ear implants, acutely sensitive to vibrations, worked against him in such situations, and he had to focus on not flinching as the shouts of his name increased in volume.
    A group of Stuurmanites in white robes rushed Tover’s float, and he tensed. His bodyguards moved closer. But the religious fanatics fell to their knees and bowed, reaching their hands toward Tover and praying to him. Peter Owens said something to the float driver and the message relayed up the parade, and they sped up noticeably, passing the ascetics in a rush.
    â€œHow the hell did they find out he’d be here?” Jade complained to Peter Owens.
    Peter laughed. “You’re the publicist. It’s your leak.”
    Tover glanced behind him. The robed ascetics were swallowed by the crowd, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He loved being a hero but being worshipped as an actual god by a small but zealous group of off-worlders disturbed him to no end.
    It usually took twenty minutes by tram to go from one end of the atrium to the other, but at the slow pace they traveled it took nearly an hour before Tover returned to the domed center and was escorted up stairs to the raised dais. He saw the floating amp phone, and his stomach clenched in anticipation. Speech time. He should have known—Jade kept slipping him drinks the entire parade.
    The crowd astounded him. Everyone in the station had to be there. How the hell had something of this scope been organized without his knowledge? Giant hologram banners displaying his face dotted the walkways. The massive space had been transformed into a scene of chaotic celebration. Red lights flashed near the security portal, but since no one else seemed concerned about it, Tover didn’t worry about it either.
    â€œSpeech! Speech!” members of the audience shouted out. Tover took the stage and smiled to hide his nerves. He despised public speaking, but now he stood at the podium and all the image captures were turned to him, he had no choice but to turn toward the floating mic and say a few words.
    â€œThank you.” His voice was rough, broken; it always surprised people. The red flashing emergency lights distracted him. Peacekeeper forces silently poured into the atrium, weapons in their hands.
    â€œIt’s an honor to celebrate my birthday in such good company.” Tover looked into the crowd, nodded at Gull and a merchant marine he had hooked up with last week. “And it’s an honor to work for this company. Harmony has been my home, my safe harbor. Thank you to the Harmony executives for this wonderful party, and for all you have done for me over the years.”
    A round of applause, although Tover never was sure if Harmony praise was genuine or calculated for promotion. On the station, almost fifty percent of the inhabitants were employees of the corporation. The rest were either peacekeepers soldiering to keep companies like Harmony safe, or else politicians regulating to keep Harmony in business. It was their world, no one had any illusions about that.
    The PK soldiers seemed to form a moving triangular shape, closing in on one restricted entry door. But the audience at Tover’s feet waited for more words.
    â€œIt’s been—”
    Someone grabbed Tover’s neck forcefully and pulled him backward. His breath exhaled loudly in shock, and members of the audience screamed. He heard a weapon fire and chaos sounded around him. Tover