Pirate Sun by Karl Schroeder

I tumbled in the air, waiting to get picked up by the dolphins, I watched her bike disappear into that black cavern and then, after a few minutes, reappear. She was frowning. ‘What did you see?’ we asked her.
    “‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Nothing at all, as far as the eye can see.’”
    “That’s strange,” said Chaison for lack of anything better. Ergez laughed again.
    “Yes, and I never found out what it meant. The guard put Antaea’s superior officer, Gonlin, in charge of the investigation, but I didn’t hear the results of it before I took this duty. And nowadays they don’t tell me anything.”
    Chaison thought again about the brief time he had spent at the skin of the world; his own memories were chiefly of a surreal wall of ice lit by flashing explosions and the green sparks of drifting flares. His expeditionary force had battled pirates there, dodging in and out of clouds and dark. Only Venera’s driver, Hayden Griffin, had come close to the skin, as he blew away the points where the bergs adhered to the wall. Griffin had sent a slow rain of icebergs into the path of the arrogant pirates, destroying at least two of their ships.
    Funny thing; he’d thought about that battle many times over the past months. Until this moment he had never considered what a rousing tale it would make. “So,” he said to Ergez, “does that mean you’re no longer a member of the guard? Did you muster out?”
    Ergez shook his head. “Once you join, you’re in it for life. But you’re not always going to be active.”
    “How does one do that? Join the guard, I mean?”
    “We have no recruiting stations, if that’s what you’re asking,” said Ergez. “Some of our people are exiles or the insatiably curious who’ve left Virga altogether, but decide to return. They find it hard to integrate after what they’ve seen in the wider universe. Some hear legends of us, and go on great quests to find us. And some are plucked out of dire circumstances by home guard members, and are invited to join.” He gave Chaison a shrewd look.
    Did Ergez think Antaea was recruiting Chaison and his men? This might be a misapprehension worth encouraging. Ergez had told Chaison that Antaea’s mission was not his concern, but it seemed more and more as though he didn’t know what it was. Perhaps Antaea’s reticence was standard procedure, a secrecy intended to protect the network of operatives from traitors or torture. Or there could be more to it.
    Chaison and Ergez chatted until it became clear that no more water missiles were going to hit. Then Chaison walked back to the servant’s quarters. He found Darius and Richard Reiss sitting at a little table in Richard’s room, talking in low voices. Darius waved him inside.
    “It seems our Antaea has a history of being reckless, and of not following orders,” said Chaison.
    “Ah, a woman after your own heart!” said Richard.
    Chaison let that comment slide. He retold Ergez’s story, filling in some details about what the edge of the world looked like for Richard, who had never been there. He added his suspicion that Antaea hadn’t explained her mission to Ergez.
    When Chaison finished Darius leaned back, hooking an arm over the back of his chair (he had to reach up a bit to do this). He was frowning. “That just don’t sound trustworthy.”
    “If Ergez told me that story in hopes I’d reciprocate, that would mean he’s curious but can’t or won’t ask Antaea himself,” agreed Chaison. “We should think about what her real agenda might be.”
    Richard looked from man to boy. “I can talk to her,” he said. “In my younger days,” he pretended to examine his fingernails, “I was really quite good at pumping people for information.”
    “You can try,” said Chaison, “but I have a more important task for you, if you’re up for it.”
    The ambassador looked up eagerly. “Yes?”
    “Puppet shows.”
    Chaison relished their looks of confusion for a full five seconds