Rogue Stars

by C Gockel et al.

  Talk and laugher from the other patrons drifted through the courtyard.

  “Sorry I upset you,” I said. “I was stupid, really.” Stupid human reaction. I was not doing very well.

  She gave me the most gorgeous look I had ever seen. Bright eyes with golden spots in the irises, even white teeth—no canines, full, dark-skinned lips. “Does that mean I’m no longer on your suspect list?”

  I sighed. “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you feel that way.”

  She sat back and sipped from her drink.

  My face glowed; my ears glowed. I kept hearing Amarru’s voice. If you can’t trust your zhayma, you distrust the entire basis of the system. She had said that in the second week of my training.

  But damn it, I had Thayu imposed on me.

  Just as much as Nicha hadn’t been my personal choice either. He’d been there; gamra had matched our personalities and he had loyalties to them.

  No difference between him and Thayu, because gamra would have matched her to me, too. We fitted together in this job; we were complementary; it had always been designed that way.

  Shit. Another near-fatal mistake, Delegate Wilson.

  She said, “All right. About your datastick . . . Maybe I can fix it, or maybe not. It’s hard to say. I need to scan the matrix for irregularities. Maybe a single cleanup will do it, but I suspect not. I suspect there are more sequences embedded in the document, and I will need to run it through a parser. Any data that has been overwritten will be hard to replace. We may lose part of the information.” She figured all that from a single look?

  A grim expression crossed her face. “It might be quicker to find someone else who holds a copy of it.”

  “That’s what Ezhya Palayi wants.” I closed my hands around my drink, balancing the bottom of the cup on the surface of the water, thinking how I’d had many such bathing sessions with Nicha and how relaxing they had been. I felt much better, and ashamed I’d behaved like such a prick.

  “I’m reluctant to do what Ezhya Palayi wants. I think everyone, not just Asto, has a right to know what this is about. Asto has something to hide, or he would not have sent Delegate Akhtari out of the room.”

  While I spoke, an idea formed in my mind. “You know that Danziger has given me notice to come back?”

  “I guess you want to use that opportunity to get the data.”

  Was there anything this woman didn’t guess correctly?

  “Maybe. It’s an option.”

  Her eyes formed into mirthful little slits. “That is . . . sneaky.”

  “A person has to be resourceful at times.”

  Thayu gasped and hauled herself out of the water. Stark naked, and with me not sure where to look, she rummaged in the pile of clothes and returned with her comm unit. “I forgot to tell you. I received a message about a job.”

  She turned so I could see the screen.

  I read. Come to the city wharf tomorrow. We have a paid contract to discuss with you.

  I frowned. “Who is this from?”

  “There’s only a number,” Thayu said. “I got the message when we were with Ezhya Palayi. I haven’t had the time to track it yet. I’ll do that right now.” Her fingers went over the control panel.

  “Is this the contact through Marin Federza?”

  “I can’t tell from this information.”

  “Where is the city wharf?”

  “On the main island.”

  “Meet there? Why? Is the employment in the city?”

  She stared at the screen.

  “Thayu?”

  Her eyes wide, she turned to me. “Don’t go—I think the number belongs to Renkati.”

  Bingo. He’d taken my bait.

  “Of course I’ll go. Don’t you see? Somehow, this man plays an important in this whole matter. He’s funded the movie, and he’s been far too interested in what I do. He probably knows I’ve spoken to Ezhya Palayi, and now he’s annoyed that he couldn’t listen to that conversation. This is my chance find out who he is and what he wants.”

  “But it could be a trap.”

  “Of course it is, but that’s why Delegate Akhtari gave me you and Evi and Telaris, isn’t it?”

  18

  WITH A WHINE of metal on metal, the train whizzed on its track, away from the artificial gamra island. I stared out the window, where wan light reflected off the bits of water between clumps of reeds and the occasional tree.

  Fortunately, it had stopped raining, but low clouds scooted over the roofs of the main island of Barresh, hiding the rock cliffs of the escarpment that lay beyond. Monsoon had started. Water churned darkly under the train line. Another few days, and it would turn into a flood, flushing out paddies and destroying dams, dragging anything loose in its inexorable quest towards the ocean.

  Including dead bodies. Was I about to follow Seymour Kershaw?

  I shivered, even though Thayu’s heat radiated next to me.

  You’re fine?

  I nodded, clenching my hands to fight an urge to fiddle with the feeder, which once again sat in my hair. Whether or not reinstalling it was a good idea I didn’t know, but Thayu’s argument that we might need it when something went wrong was more powerful than my misgivings.

  Of course we’ll need it. Why do you keep fighting it?

  I met her perfect eyes, completely black in the low light.

  You wouldn’t understand.

  Hell, I wasn’t even sure I understood it myself. I was trying to keep my life in neat compartments, one containing my job, one containing Eva and the diplomatic set, back on Earth, the people I represented. To protect them, to protect Eva, because she would definitely not understand. What do you mean, you have to invite all these people to our wedding? That was another minefield of relationships. Eva’s family might tolerate Nicha’s presence, but Amarru’s or Thayu’s? Yes, they were colleagues, not friends. No, Coldi didn’t make that distinction. Gamra formality regarded these types of invitations as polite, the right thing to do. I could of course claim that Earth customs didn’t extend to inviting work colleagues to private functions, but Amarru would be offended. She’d never tell me in so many words, but she would. Coldi saw their life as a continuum of interlacing contacts that balanced each other. People on Earth preferred barriers.

  You make everything so complicated, Thayu scoffed.

  But she joked. Ever since we had come back from the baths, Thayu and I had worked as a team.

  Evi and Telaris sat a few seats back, pretending to be travelling by themselves. The message from Renkati had not explicitly told me to come alone, but Thayu said that no one on the streets of Barresh had guards. I didn’t want to stand out.

  She had supplied me, herself and the two guards with a locating device that had a little light which flashed more frequently when the others were near. It also sent a signal back to the hub in the apartment in case any of us became lost. I wore the device under the sleeve of my shirt—a local khaki—provided by Eirani. She had been suspicious at my request for local garb. Delegates should be proud to wear gamra blue, she said, and why would I go to markets on a foul day like this? But her protest hadn’t been vehement. Judging by the look on her face, she knew something was up. Being in Renkati’s pay, she might even have arranged this meeting.

  The game continued.

  When the train slowed, the guards sprang to their feet and went to the far end of the carriage.

  I rose, too, as the island came closer. Thunder growled in the distance.

  The train stopped and the doors opened.

  I stepped onto the platform amongst a stream of fellow passengers, mostly domestic workers on shopping trips, carrying empty baskets and bags. They formed a steady stream to the far end of the platform, purposeful like worker bees.

  I let them pass, making sure that Thayu and the guards were still with me.

  A humid cloud of droplets drifted under the station’s roof. It had started raining again. Not much, but a drizzle that looked miserable and made pe
ople squint.

  Having been built recently, the train lines never crossed the islands directly, but skirted them. On one side of the station was the island, the ochre houses crowded together all crooked and squished like blocks of rubber. Oversized trees cluttered whatever narrow alleys snaked through the maze of walls.

  A metal walkway bridged the short distance between the station and the shore; from the walkway, a staircase went down to another walkway which backtracked under the rails to the deserted jetty, where I was to meet the contact.

  I went down these stairs, Thayu a step behind me. My footfalls on the metal steps echoed between the pylons encrusted with sea-growth, and the underside of the platform. Evi and Telaris lingered at the top of the steps, pretending to be talking, but their eyes took in everything, and I had no doubt they would have their guns out within a second, if necessary.

  But for now, there was no one down there.

  The rainy weather had reduced the landscape to shades of silver and grey. Cloth-covered boats lay on the far side of the jetty, tied up with sodden ropes; piles of fishing baskets tottered next to bollards.

  “Are you sure this is the right place?” I asked.

  Just then, there was movement on the jetty and a boy unfolded his legs, rising from under the oilcloth which sheltered him from the rain.

  “Delegate Cory Wilson?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Come.” The boy threw off the cloth and ran down the jetty, up the stairs.

  “Hey, wait!” I yelled, but he kept going. His thin legs disappeared up the stairs and out of sight. What the hell. . . ?

  I walked back to the stairs, where Evi and Telaris were peering down at us through the metal steps and framework.

  “Did the boy just come up?” I yelled at them.

  “He did. Ran past and vanished,” Telaris replied.

  “Can you still see him?”

  “No. Mashara is not happy about this, Delegate.”

  In honesty, I couldn’t say I liked this any better than they did, but I hated to think I had come for nothing.

  While I climbed the stairs, looking at Thayu’s heels, I heard the inevitable voice of my conscience, which always sounded like my father. Proper business stays above the table, son. Don’t fall for the tricks of a con merchant.

  Thayu broke in. Someone in that brain of yours has sense.

  Thayu, I need to know what this man is about.

  You’ve promoted yourself to an investigating authority? There was a hint of playful sarcasm.

  I can’t see anyone else doing it. Certainly no one else is being shadowed by these people.

  You’re crazy.

  That’s been said before. Many times, most often by Eva’s father.

  I reached the top of the stairs, Thayu behind me.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “Why don’t we try to find that boy and walk around for a bit? I told the staff we’d be going to the markets, so we might as well. Just follow close behind and keep an eye out, mashara.”

  The train had long since left the station, and all passengers had vanished into the miserable wet day. A lone guard paced the platform and a woman sat on a bench, surrounded by a ring of baskets. A homeless peddler, I guessed. The city hosted plenty of them.

  In spite of the rain, the markets burst with colour. Bright yellow, pink, orange, one canopy was brighter than the next. Underneath, vendors slaved over vats of steaming water, lowering cooking pots and pulling them back out. The smell of sulphur was everywhere. One could not make a fire in Barresh, courtesy of the megon nut trees, which grew along waterlines. The oil exuded by the tree’s flowers was the most powerful fire retardant known in the universe. In Barresh, it coated every surface. As a result, the local cuisine didn’t include anything that required a fire to cook. Eirani’s bread was boiled in the water of hot springs that was piped into the kitchen.

  In that light, the Coldi woman selling deep-fried food from a pan of bubbling oil had to be a novelty, and a popular one at that. Everywhere in the crowd people walked around nibbling golden, curly things from bags she sold. The smells that rose from the pan were heavenly. Memories flowed. Spicy hot Asian food, fish and chips on the beach, meals I’d shared with people I loved, none of whom were here. My parents, Inaru, Nicha—

  “You must try this,” Thayu said.

  Before I knew it, she had taken a bag from the stallholder and pushed it into my hands. Steam curled up from it, spreading a delicious smell.

  I stood there, feeling like an idiot. Now what? Coldi presented each other food as courtship rituals.

  Just try it. I’m not trying to buy you. Thayu’s eyes met mine.

  Heat rising to my cheeks, I picked up one of the deep-fried curls and put it into my mouth. Tangy, hot, crispy, the piece was gone within a second.

  I took a bigger piece.

  She fished a curl from the bag. “Is it good?”

  I nodded, my mouth full. “What are they?”

  She picked up another piece with a yellow-skinned index finger and middle finger, as Coldi often did.

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  Ah—right. Coldi didn’t eat the meat from invertebrate animals, so they were probably some kind of slug or worm.

  “Have another one?” She dangled it before my mouth.

  You weren’t trying to buy me, remember?

  The skin around her eyes crinkled as if she wanted to say What if I was? Through the feeder, I sensed a warm feeling, of a type I didn’t recognise from Nicha. And yet, I knew what it was, and I pushed it as far back as I could.

  I couldn’t . . .

  I wouldn’t . . .

  Eva . . .

  I turned away, holding out the bag to the guards. “Mashara, you should try some.” I had to clear my throat. My heart hammered in my chest.

  Both Indrahui refused. I had never seen either man eat anything. I didn’t even know where they ate or slept, or where they bathed. I didn’t know if they had families, or if they were brothers or lovers, or if they had lovers, far away from here.

  “Please, mashara, treat this as a day out as well.”

  “When we’re with the Delegate, mashara is on duty.”

  Very proper.

  We had started walking again, past clothing stalls, barbers, fabric sellers, jewellery makers, stalls with furniture, fortunetellers. The rain pattered on the canvas roofs, but no one took any notice. People talked, argued, shared drinks, tried to convince others of their political views. Every now and then, we passed little islands of high-tech, where some vendor sold gadgetry, but for the most part, the markets were about locally-produced food and clothing, about services and about meeting each other.

  I looked at necklaces, trying them on Thayu’s soft-skinned neck, imagining how they would look on Eva—and failing. I hadn’t been away long, but I already had trouble visualising what Eva looked like, how her voice sounded and what she liked wearing. Velvet Victorian-style dresses with deep necklines. Perfect for a pretty pendant.

  Instead, I asked Evi and Telaris for their opinions on necklaces—they had seen Eva after all—but they remained stiff-faced about the subject of my impending marriage. All right, I knew they didn’t agree with my choice.

  I also looked out in case I saw something that would solve my shaving conundrum. I tried fish knives, fruit knives, scalpels, cutting myself a few times, but no one had razors, and the redness on my cheeks was starting to develop into a rash.

  By the time the light faded into a darker grey, I decided it was time to head back. I had bought a necklace, established that no one in the city needed to shave so there was no equipment for doing so, and now merchants were packing up for the day.

  And then there was that boy again, sitting on a wall on the corner of an alley. A skinny thing of maybe ten, all arms and legs and a head full of curly, honey-coloured hair. His eyes were blue. Unlike that of the locals, his skin was deathly pale. I didn’t need to see the long fingers and wide shoulders.


  He was Aghyrian.

  “Delegate Cory Wilson?” he said, in a clear voice.

  “What is this game? We are here to see Mr Renkati.” I figured the boy had already seen us together, and it was pointless to pretend I’d come alone. “Who are you?”

  The boy shook his head. “Amoro Renkati?”

  “Yes, that’s who we’re here to see. Are you taking us to him?”

  He stepped back and beckoned.

  Thayu and the two guards moved closer behind me.

  “Tell him to get his master to meet us here, Delegate,” Telaris said, his voice low.

  “I don’t think he speaks Coldi.”

  Telaris pushed to the front and spoke in various languages, neither of which changed the blank look on the boy’s face. When Thayu offered him her translator, he bolted into an alley between two houses. He stopped at the end.

  Evi and Telaris exchanged looks.

  “Mashara advises the Delegate to wait here or go back,” Telaris said. “If this man wants to talk to the Delegate, he will have to come to the gamra island.”

  Sensible, so sensible. I understood their position, totally.

  Except it wouldn’t solve anything. Renkati wouldn’t come, because otherwise he already would have.

  The boy, apparently still waiting, climbed on top of a garden all and sat there, his legs dangling.

  I gestured the guards and Thayu closer.

  “Mashara, I’m afraid I don’t see a choice but to follow him. I want to know what it is about; I need to know. These people are somehow tied up with the information Ezhya Palayi wants. So I am going to follow him. Stay close behind me. Thayu, if you could walk in front of me. I’m sorry, but I . . .” As a diplomat, I made a point of not carrying arms.

  Thayu nodded. She dug in a pocket strapped to her leg. I couldn’t see what she took out, but her hand, radiating warmth, slipped something in the pocket of my jacket. I stuck my hand in and half-withdrew a disk-shaped object. A small screen at the front of the disk gave the time in four different notations.