“Do it, Doctor,” Telemachus said. “Kill the SCI. Or I’ll find someone who will.”
And it had been two days. Two days without Amy, except the Amy he could remember. Less real, less alive than the Amy in Dreamscape. Irony nested in irony. He hadn’t been able to sleep without Milani’s tranquilizers, and even then erratically. Even when he took double the dose.
His sceye flashed. It was almost time. Opening one eye to accept the call, Kwazi said softly, “Yes?”
“Hi,” came Milani Stuart’s hopeful voice. Her face held an encouraging smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” he answered honestly.
“Did you eat?”
“Not really.”
“Kwazi, you need to eat.”
“I know.”
“Helena’s coming to collect you soon,” Milani said. Then, again with forced cheer, “Regent Rabh is anxious to meet you.”
Reality re-poured its cement over him. They were at Callisto. He was to be rolled out and put on display to smile and wave to the populace and reassure them that all was well.
“I want it back,” he said.
There was a pause on the other end.
“I know,” Milani said. “You know what she said.”
Yes, he knew. Do this event. Make Adriana Rabh happy. Make sure the cameras caught him appearing confident and supportive of SynCorp. Shake workers’ hands. Kiss workers’ babies. Be a symbol of hope.
What a fucking joke.
“Do this and I’ll turn it back on for the trip home,” Helena had said.
So what choice did he have? He didn’t have the know-how to reboot the SCI himself. And Milani wouldn’t do it without Helena’s approval.
“I’ll see you out there,” Kwazi said. Before Milani could answer, he cut the sceye connection.
He rolled out of his bunk. His joints and muscles ached. He took his time moving to the small terminal and the preparation ritual assigned by Helena. Getting ready for the crowd by reading s-mails from admirers. It sounded self-indulgent and narcissistic to him. But she’d insisted it would help him get his head on straight to face the crowds. Reading their messages would immerse him in their expectations. He was an actor researching a role.
Kwazi brought up s-mail and scanned the subject lines, trying to find something new. Anything that made him feel less self-conscious. Less fake.
THANK YOU FOR BEING YOU!
I NAMED MY SON KWAZI AFTER YOU. GODDESS BLESS!
The door to his quarters slipped aside.
“You look like shit,” Telemachus said. “Jesus.”
She entered, two guards gliding in behind her.
He stared lazily at her with his lack of sleep and constant need for Dreamscape.
“Get up, for Christ’s sake,” Helena said, pulling him to his feet. “We’ll make a quick stop with Stuart, get you a stim. Remember what Tony Taulke said? Don’t fuck this up, Jabari. Adriana Rabh is one unforgiving bitch.”
Whatever. Kwazi attempted to motivate his tired mind to the role again. One more time, and then I get it back. I get her back.
Helena led him from his quarters with a firm grip around his bicep.
Please come back, Amy. Please come back.
• • •
“So, this is the hero of Mars,” Adriana Rabh said from behind her desk. “The man who saved countless lives.”
Kwazi stood in front of the Regent of Jupiter, his eyes forward.
“So good to see you again, Regent,” Helena Telemachus in her on-camera voice. “Tony sends his regards.”
“I don’t need Tony’s regards,” Rabh groused. “I need your expertise shaping public perception.”
“Of course, Regent,” Telemachus said.
“We’re on edge here,” Rabh continued. “The rumor mill is churning. It’s the one goddamned thing around here that’s still working reliably.”
“Understood, Regent,” Helena Telemachus said. Her voice was restrained, subdued. Kwazi worked hard to stay in the moment. “It’s like that on Mars as well.”
Rabh grunted. “Elise Kisaan said there was an attack on Earth, too. This little rebellion is spreading.”
“That’s why we’re here, Regent,” Telemachus said confidently. “To restore some order. Some faith.”
Adriana Rabh appeared dubious. “Good luck with that. Tony sending his flagship here is a fine gesture, but at the end of the day it’s just a ship.” She looked Kwazi over. “What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Jabari?”
Awareness returned when he heard his name. “Ma’am?”
Rabh’s brows narrowed. To Kwazi she seemed carved from rough marble, the lines of her pallid skin sketched in roughly by time’s passing. Those lines deepened now in concern.
“Mr. Jabari, the people of Valhalla Station fancy themselves the modern descendants of Vikings. Do you know who the Vikings were?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It’s a silly notion, but it gives them commonality. It gives them definition as a community,” she continued. “Out here on the fringes of settled space, it’s important to have a solid sense of who you are. It helps keep at bay the constant knowledge that death is one asteroid strike away.” She turned to Helena as if sharing a secret joke. “I don’t remind them that Titan is far less civilized, less developed, and farther out.”
Kwazi said nothing. It was all he could do to keep his mind focused. It was like his ears were chasing Rabh’s words down and grabbing them and tossing them at his brain to catch.
“But the reality is, they’re just scared human beings in a fairly new place. They’re just people, Mr. Jabari, playacting a role to avoid quaking in fear every day.”
“Okay,” he said. That was something he understood.
“What they need to hear from you is that the Syndicate Corporation has their back. You’re reinforcing a message they’ve heard all their lives,” Rabh said. “Cradle to grave, we’re your mother and father. Your nursemaid when you’re sick. Your protector when there’s danger. Example: it was Erkennen’s testudo shield that protected the plastisteel dome after the impact on the orbital ring. Use that. Work it into your speech.”
“Yes, Regent,” Kwazi said. He was proud of himself for remembering to use her title.
“Go be an icon, Mr. Jabari. Go be a fucking Viking hero,” Rabh said, flicking her right hand toward the door in dismissal. “I’ll be watching.”
• • •
“I have to admit, you did well,” Helena Telemachus said. Her voice had a cautious respect hiding inside it. “Calling Tony ‘the father of us all, the man who provides’ was a particularly nice touch.”
I was inspired, Kwazi thought. They followed him into his quarters. I was motivated.
“You were great, Kwazi,” Milani said, squeezing his forearm. He felt it. The genuine warmth from Milani, a contrast to Helena’s coldness.
“I kept my end of the deal,” Kwazi said simply. “Now keep yours.”
Instead Telemachus said, “Adriana was so impressed she’s invited us and Callisto’s labor leaders to dinner tonight. It’ll be a grand thing. Viking themed, no doubt. I’m sure there’ll be lots of red meat.”
It was her attempt at a joke, Kwazi realized. It wasn’t funny.
“Reconnect my SCI,” he said. It wasn’t a request. His need for Amy braced his courage.
“I don’t think you heard me,” Telemachus replied. Her voice was a jailer’s voice. Only it was inverse jail. She forced him to stay here, outside, in the real world. She kept him from going into Dreamscape … from Amy. “You need to be on your game just a little bit longer.”
“You promised me—”
Helena Telemachus stepped forward. Her eyes held him fast. “Who do you think is running this show, Jabari? You? You’re just a walking, talking 3D image, a fiction we created with a tragic backstory. You’re an actor hired to stand where I tell him to and read his lines. And when that’s done—when I say that’s done—you’ll get your reward. Do you unde
rstand?”
He wanted to spit in her face. “Yes,” he whispered instead.
She spun on her heel to Milani Stuart, hunched in the corner by the desk. “Make sure he sleeps some before dinner. One thing goes wrong tonight, and I’ll hold you responsible.”
“Yes, Ms. Telemachus,” Milani said.
SynCorp’s Queen of All Media strode from Kwazi’s quarters, the guards following.
Milani moved to Kwazi’s side. “Are you okay? God, that woman is so cold!”
Cold hands, Kwazi thought. Colder heart.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Would you turn my SCI back on now?”
Milani sighed. It was a sad sound. “You know I can’t, Kwazi. I wish I could! But it’s just a little longer, okay? I promise, then—”
“Okay, then,” he said, “do you mind leaving? I’d like to be alone for a while.”
I’d like to think about Amy without all these distractions.
Milani placed her hand again on Kwazi’s arm.
Still warm.
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll come check on you in an hour or so. Try to get some rest, okay? Ping me if you need anything before then.”
“I will.”
With a last look behind her, Milani left his quarters.
Kwazi lay down on the bed and closed his eyes and conjured imperfect memories of Amanda Topulos.
Chapter 24
Stacks Fischer • Somewhere in the Belt
“Don’t worry, I planted a grid bomb,” Daisy said. “It’s what took out the lights.”
Well, that made me feel tons better. Now we were outnumbered and blind.
“That was some pretty good shooting back there,” I said. “The guard.”
“Everyone worth killing wears MESH these days,” she said. Then, looking me up and down, “Until they have it yanked off them. You gotta learn to be precise.”
I’d lost my longcoat, and I was missing it. Without it, I was as bare assed all over as Guard Number Two’s face.
The emergency lighting snapped on. Everything shone with a deep red glow.
“Different grid,” Daisy said.
“Uh-huh.” I hurried over to Elaena’s corpse and slipped the knife from her neck, then cleaned it on her blouse. Her eyes showed utter surprise at being dead. I slipped the blade back into the spring under my right wrist. “Got any .38 rounds?”
“Fresh out.” Daisy moved to the only entry to Elaena’s throne room.
“Want to take the other side there, grandpa?” she said. “It’s called a flanking position.”
“The guards are on their way,” I said, doing it.
“Yep.”
“Is there some reason we’re waiting for them?” I asked.
“Because the only guards in the room with us at the moment are dead.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Fischer, there’s a whole escape plan in motion here. Do what I tell you and you’ll stay alive.”
“Wanna throw some details my way?”
“Not really.”
See, this is why I hate working with someone else. People in my line of work like to play it close to the vest. No information is volunteered that isn’t needed. Before I could give Daisy my opinion of that in this particular circumstance, alert Klaxons started braying. I hate those things. They hurt my ears.
“Well, they’re on their way now,” I said. “Tell me where the Hearse is, and I’ll lead the way.” Standing around waiting for Elaena’s pirate army to overwhelm us was getting on my nerves.
“Hold your nutsack, old man,” Daisy said. “At your age, that should take both hands.”
“Look, you pompous little b—”
Thumps sounded in the distance. The floor shuddered. The thumps thumped closer. Someone was attacking the base. The vibrations in the floor got more vibraty.
“Plan, part two?” I suggested.
Daisy smiled at me. “The fleet. After we arrived, I tight-beamed Galatz as soon as I was alone. I negotiated with Elaena, buying time for him to get the fleet here.”
“And here he is,” I said admiringly.
“Right on time,” she said.
“Well, you sneaky little minx. I take back all those nasty things I said about you. And the nastier things I thought. By the way, where is here?” I asked, moving back into the room. I’d wondered that since we’d debarked the frigate. No one had bothered to tell me.
“Pallas. Where are you going?”
“I’m gonna grab some of that stylish stunner-resistant armor I’ve heard so much about.” Pallas. One of the biggest asteroids in the Belt. But less obvious a base of operations than, say, Ceres. Smart. And properly named for a dead Queen of Pirates, I suppose.
More impacts above.
“No time, Fischer. We’re going now. While the bad guys are distracted.”
She opened the door to the corridor before I could disagree. I hurried after, acutely aware of my stunner-friendly bare ass. The entire asteroid shook with the fleet’s bombardment. Guards rushed around us, and I was sure we’d be gunned down. But they were Soldiers of the Solar Revolution—galactic tree huggers with nifty uniforms and a cause that made them feel good about themselves. They might be trained, but they weren’t professional soldiers. False advertising! But even professional soldiers don’t like bombs dropped on their heads. It’s impossible to fight back.
Pallas rocked again.
“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked.
“Just a little farther.”
We’d reached an upper level. It was starting to look familiar, like maybe where I was marched through on my way to Club Mediocre. There were windows carved out of the rock, with plastisteel holding back vacuum. Outside, there was a pitched battle of warships. The pirates were retreating.
“Fischer, keep up!”
I’d stopped to watch the fireworks. Rookie mistake. She was out ahead of me and nearing a portal I definitely recognized. We were at the slip where Daisy had supposedly betrayed me.
“Hey, slow down! You don’t know what’s on the other side of that—”
The door slid open, and Daisy barreled through.
I followed her into pandemonium. It looked like some of Elaena’s pirates had lost their nerve. Some were trying to evacuate in ordered fashion. Others were pushing past their fellows, desperate to board whatever vessels were still in the hangar. Several were even trying to force their way into the Hearse. But she was my baby and didn’t open herself up for anyone but me—DNA coding. Which is why my heart nearly stopped when her canopy popped open.
That girl was cheating on me.
Daisy was halfway across the flight deck.
“Hey, you!” a man shouted. “Stop!”
I moved but not fast enough. It was Officer Friendly, the striper who’d taken me into custody. He and two troopers were angling for Daisy, who was so intent on claiming the Hearse she hadn’t noticed.
“Daisy, watch your back!”
One of the soldiers peeled off and kneeled, taking aim with his stunner. I dropped behind the nearest barrel to avoid being fricasseed.
Punk. Punk-punk. Punk-punk-punk.
Stunners were firing all over the place. The idiot on one knee was still in the open. I leaned around the barrel at floor level, raised my .38, and dropped him to the deck.
More stunner fire. Daisy plugged the deserters, knocking them off the Hearse. Then Officer Friendly did for her. She stumbled and went down.
Goddamn it, girl!
She was good as dead if those clothes of hers weren’t made of MESH. I hopped out of hiding and ran past the guard on the ground, moaning with a slug in his belly. Officer Friendly was damned near on top of Daisy. She was moving but just barely. He raised his stunner.
“Fucking traitor,” he yelled above the bedlam in the hangar. “You sold us out to SynCorp!”
I stopped and brought my pistol up. I had two shots left. Both had to count.
“Hey, striper!” I said. “Poin
t that at someone your own size!”
Friendly turned, and I shot once and missed. He raised his weapon, a smile on his face, and my last bullet plugged him in the forehead. His head snapped back, and he collapsed to the deck. The soldier beside him screamed something obscene and brought up his stunner. I had my own but with all that armor on him and all that distance between us, my odds weren’t great.
Then he seized, dropping his weapon, and collapsed to the floor. Daisy had angled her own stunner up his pant leg and fired. Inside the armor, obviously.
Talk about a shot to the balls.
I raced over to her.
“Hold tight, kid,” I said. “I’ll get you aboard, and we’ll blow this rock.”
“Nuhn,” she said. I stopped trying to move her. That’s when I noticed her left side was slack. Motionless. Her right, with the hand that had done the deed on the guard, could still move. Half her face looked like it might slag off any moment.
I’d seen this before. A glancing stunner shot not powerful enough to kill had overloaded her central nervous system. Daisy was paralyzed on the left side. With all the Erkennen med-tech miracles over the years, I’d never heard of anyone who’d ever come back from that.
“Heyah,” she said, reaching out her working hand. In it was a micro-drive the size of her little fingernail. “Ahdrianah.”
“You can give it to her yourself.”
“Nuhn,” she said, thrusting her right hand at me. “Tahk it, ash-hole.”
I took it. “Look, kid, I can get you back.”
“Go,” she said from the right side of her mouth. “Whell you shtill cuhn.” She glanced up to the roof and the shuddering rock above. Galatz was gonna end this place.
“I can’t,” I said, and I didn’t mean leave. I looked to the stunner in her right hand. She knew exactly what I meant.
“Thash okay,” she said. “I cahn.”
I blinked once. “You’re a good kid, kid. And a damned fine fixer for Adriana. I’ll make sure she knows that.”
Daisy Brace gave a cockeyed smile that was sad to see. “Goh, ash-hole!”
I climbed into the Hearse and fired her up. No one noticed. As I lifted off, my vector swung the cockpit down toward where I’d left Daisy, now lying flat on the deck. Her stunner was in her right hand, pointed at her head, thumb hooked through the trigger guard.
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