Legacy of Shadow

by Gallant, Craig;

  “Meh,” he continued, oblivious of her inner turmoil. “Fiearra’s been getting a little boring, lately, to tell you the truth.”

  She shot another look back at him, but he was still lost, watching the contoured surface of the Concourse rising up to meet them. The notch in the dark skin between his eyes deepened. “Most of the Subbotines I’ve met haven’t seemed too deep, now that I think about it.”

  She turned back to bring them into the bay. She could feel a smile pulling at her lips, and tamped it down with an angry surge. She had no idea why his words should cause such a reaction, but it unnerved her all the same.

  Chapter 16

  Marcus looked across the table to where Iphini Bha sat demurely sipping at a clear liquid that might have been water for all he knew. He had grown weary of taking his meals in his quarters, and the sense of being under siege day and night had only grown since the attack, or whatever it was, in the halls. It had been well over a month, according to his old watch, since the incident, and Bha and Angara had watched over him like over-sensitive mother hens ever since. He was starting to feel like a trapped animal.

  The close confines had done nothing positive for his working relationship with his nominal assistant, either. Bha seemed more and more frustrated and upset, but refused to share with him any possible reasons for her strained temperament. He felt as if every effort he made to put her at ease was being undermined by some invisible force he could not puzzle out.

  And so, refusing to be put off any longer, he had ordered her to take him someplace nice to eat; alone. It had felt awkward, and oddly inappropriate when he had made the decision, but he knew that many of the morals that dictated behavior on Earth were as much strangers here as he was. There was no romantic component to his desire to sit down with his assistant and share a meal; nevertheless, he felt as uncomfortable as he had on his first date.

  Iphini Bha had been taken aback by his suggestion, but had eventually relented. She suggested several grand establishments that had seemed too much, even for him, and they had settled on a small place that promised excellent views. His position had assured them a nice table in a quiet corner despite the obvious discomfort of the frog-eyed Matabessi servers. The viewing field over their table looked out over the Gulf between the wings of the city, and the glittering thread that spiraled out from somewhere beneath them and down to the desolate planet rotating far below.

  He watched the gleaming, twisting beam with genuine awe. He had come to take many amazing things for granted since they had first arrived in Penumbra, but the city still found ways to surprise him. Bha had told him that the ribbon he was seeing was called the Diamond Road. Apparently, it was the source of the city’s water, siphoned up from somewhere beneath the surface of the planet and into the Relic Core, where it was processed and divided among the countless reservoirs of the city. How it was processed and divided Iphini Bha could not tell him; just another mystery that the people of the city lived with every day.

  “I was surprised Angara Ksaka allowed you out.” Bha was not meeting his eyes, the pencil-like object she always had with her spinning idly in one marbled hand. “She has been quite adamant that you need to be sequestered until she can convince Warder Oo’juto to assume the … your … to become the administrator.”

  That put a bit of a damper on his mood again. The dolphin with the bad attitude, Marcus refused to think of it as anything else, had apparently been slow to agree to any kind of assumption of power. Days could go by and no one would even mention those efforts to him, and he would as often as not forget that this situation, that he was finally coming to accept as his new normal, was only temporary. When it was brought up, though, it took him right out of whatever he was doing at the moment, and threatened to plunge him into a depression he was only now coming to identify.

  Marcus sipped at his drink. It was a tart, citrusy juice, reminding him a little of orange juice with a strange, watermelon-like aftertaste. It wasn’t Mountain Dew, but it was as close as he’d yet come. He shrugged. “I didn’t give her much choice. She’s been wanting an evening free herself. I knew she had arranged to take Justin to those fighting pits tonight, so I told her I was going out.” He smiled at the memory. “She was mad enough to spit, but when I told her I’d bring you along, she gave in.”

  Bha nodded, looking down at the plate of multi-colored vegetative fronds. “Lucky me.” The words were flat, even though the translators in his head.

  That set Marcus back into a tailspin. He had spent a large part of nearly every day with Iphini Bha for months now, and he thought they had come to a decent working relationship. She seemed to understand instinctively what he was trying to do, and had often assisted him in ways he didn’t even know to ask for. And yet, there was still some darkness under the surface he never seemed able to penetrate.

  He looked down at his own plate. Their technology meant that if he could describe it, the chefs working in the small back room kitchen could recreate it. The problem was, he found his memory for most of the foods he had enjoyed was often less than equal to the task. His plate was now home to a brown lump of protein that looked less like a steak fresh off the grill and more like a steak fresh out of the business end of a dog.

  Overall, the evening was not shaping up to be the refreshing outing he had planned.

  He tried another conversational sally. “We haven’t heard much from Taurani since I peed in his porridge, working the deal with Copic Fa’Orin for his son.”

  Marcus liked to sprinkle his conversations with little colloquialisms from time to time. It made him feel better about the near-constant low-grade earache his own implants gave him.

  Bha looked up, then away, the fracture-like lines on her pale face standing out more starkly than normal. “His guards have been active in the Concourse. There have been threats against some of the associates of your conglomerates. Nothing actionable, so I did not think to bring it to your attention. I assume he awaits word from the Council, before he does anything more drastic.”

  That didn’t sound good. “Drastic?” The coalitions he had been able to make since that first breakthrough were only now starting to make their influence felt in the city. He had assumed Taurani’s silence meant the gangly grey freak was powerless to stop him. If there was some way for the Council’s bag man to stick his foot into things now, it could make a real mess.

  She looked up at him, and there was an edge of pity in her wide eyes that he found mildly insulting. “Ambassador Taurani will not leave things as they are. Your work with the Diakk man, and with all the others since, has been a direct challenge to everything the Galactic Council stands for.” She shook her head, looking back down. “They will not let it stand without response.”

  Well, that was just great. He wished Bha had told him about the Ntja making nuisances of themselves in the lower levels of the city, but he could not really fault her. Their working relationship had improved immensely, but there was still something hanging, unspoken, between them.

  “Iphini, can I ask you a question?” He wasn’t looking at her as he spoke. The conversation had been a touch stilted all night, as he had tried to avoid anything that might upset his delicate-seeming assistant. If it was going to be uncomfortable, however, he figured he might as well dive right in and talk about what was really on his mind.

  She nodded, her own eyes downcast as well.

  “What, exactly, do you have against me?” The words came quickly. They had been building for weeks, and he had only avoided asking them for fear of damaging the carefully-crafted rapport that had made his work possible. But that silence had not banished his awareness of her subtle reactions. If there was going to be this wall between them, he might as well know what it was.

  Her slender shoulders lifted in mute deflection. “I have nothing against you, Marcus Wells.” Her voice was flat. “I have found many of your goals laudable, if your methods were … opaque.” She turned to look out the viewing field at the glittering bridge to the barren surfac
e far below. “There are many that do not understand you, but then, there is little enough understanding to be had between any two species, is there not?”

  He had not anticipated that. He knew something was there between them, some shadow that haunted her at odd moments in their work. But with her words, even if they sounded forced, he found himself unwilling to make an asshole of himself by pushing the issue.

  “Well, thanks for that, anyway.” He summoned up a smile. “I couldn’t have done what little I have without your help. That’s for sure.”

  She looked up at him, her huge eyes confused. “Little? You have done a great deal. Violence throughout the city is down, and many more have come forward to be helped by your networks since you arranged to save the son of Copic Fa’Orin.” She paused, her eyes shifting, and she looked back down to the spinning pen that was never far from her, especially when she was nervous. “It has been an honor to be a part of such work.”

  His smile became more genuine. “Well, like I said, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  She shrugged, her eyes sliding back up to look through the field and out into space. “I would be able to assist you more, truth to tell, with the executive codes. But I have been honored to do what I have done.”

  That caught him off guard. “Executive codes?”

  “There are systems you can call upon, for both research and reaction, that will not respond to the deputy to the administrator.” Again, the gentle shrug. “It has always been that way. It is only that until now, very little has actually been attempted.”

  “What kinds of systems?” So much within the administrator’s office happened almost without his conscious thought, as the systems seemed to sense his needs and desires and strove to provide what he needed, that he often found himself taking the city’s systems for granted. Until a moment like the assassination attempt, of course. Then they were enormous, violent, and terrifying mysteries.

  She paused, and he could not shake the sudden feeling that she was more uncomfortable than usual. She seemed to be thinking better of her earlier comment. “Mostly data retrieval and organization. Some communications functions.” She hunched her shoulders slightly in an oddly diminishing way, shaking her head. “It is nothing I cannot work around, to be honest.”

  He felt awful, wanting nothing more than to make Bha feel better. He shook his head and reached across the table, gently taking one of her hands in his. “No, Iphini! Is it something I can release? If there’s something I can do to give you access to those systems, why wouldn’t I? You should have asked me sooner! Of course I want to help you! You’ve been a huge help to me!”

  She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide, her hand rigid beneath his. “You would give me that kind of access?”

  Something in the back of his mind seemed to jerk at her tone, but he had learned not to depend too much on reading into people’s tone of voice since arriving in Penumbra. The nano-tech in his brain did an amazing job of translating all aspects of communication, including the vertigo-inducing experience of reading written text and the maddening buzz of vernacular phraseology. But he still could not bring himself to trust the actual sound of someone’s voice, when he found himself in an uncomfortable spot.

  Before he could stop himself, he nodded, his smile firmly in place. “Of course!”

  She smiled at him; a shy expression that emphasized her big, wide eyes and smooth, hairless features.

  His own smile grew warmer. He thought he just might be sensing a thaw in that dark shadow between them.

  *****

  Marcus had convinced Iphini Bha to take a stroll with him through the Concourse on their return journey to the Red Tower, sending the small Administrative shuttle back under its own guidance. It was late, and so traffic beneath the city’s artificial skin was thin. Still, a dizzying array of creatures moved among the enormous tower-footings and independent buildings. There were no Ntja present, and he thought he detected at least a small change in the general attitude toward him as they walked, side by side, through the crowds.

  Iphini Bha was obviously nervous, her gaze darting back and forth as if expecting an attack at any moment. But Marcus had a good feeling about the night. He had been working tirelessly to create more networks that led back to the administrator’s office, that would allow him to exercise more influence on many of the consortiums that called the city home, and thus help those in need who came to Penumbra, like Copic Fa’Orin, as a last resort.

  He thought of the Diakk man and his son, Copic Fa’Elic, often. If it had not been for Fa’Orin, he doubted if any of what he had accomplished since would have been possible. People’s concerns about Council reprisals had been stemmed by that first success, and he had found himself emboldened by his confrontation with the ambassador in the council chamber afterward, believing he had somehow scored a victory, even one as minor as saving a single boy, over the old politico.

  Bha’s stories of Ntja interference and her certainty that Taurani still had a play to make worried him more than he would let on, but with each passing day, it would be harder for the slimy, lipless toad to derail his work.

  The two of them had arrived unmolested at the base of the Red Tower and taken a lift tube up through the primary habitation deck. He still hated the strange jogs in the hall that kept him from seeing more than a hundred feet in front of him at a time, and questioned, once again, the Variyar design philosophy that dictated the strange layout. It made the simple task of moving to and from his suite the most anxious part of every day. Iphini Bha had stationed Leemuk security guards from his own office to guard the approaches to his apartments, and although he wouldn’t have wanted to admit it, the sight of the big green blobs with their wide, creepy, snaggle-toothed smiles always reassured him.

  As they stepped out into the quiet, empty lift tube annex, he felt something cold drop in his gut.

  “Where’s the guard?” He moved toward the hall, wishing he had a weapon. Everyone, from Bha to Justin to Angara, had told him that an administrator going armed would send exactly the wrong message to the people of Penumbra. They had said it would make him look weak and fearful at a time when he needed to project just the opposite. He had argued that there had to be something small he could carry, if for no other reason than to make himself feel better. But Bha had countered that the Skorahn had taken care of him before, it could be assumed it would continue to do so.

  Of course, that made the thought of giving it up as soon as they could convince the dolphin to take it even less appealing, but he had not told them that. He assumed they knew.

  Still, it would have been nice to have a gun in his hands as he inched down the hallway now. Even the little pistol from Justin’s glove compartment would have made him feel like he could do something about his own fate.

  “He is probably relieving himself.” Bha muttered from beside the tube. She had not moved any further into the alcove.

  Marcus was not familiar with the bathroom habits of the Leemuk, but thought it would have seemed relatively unprofessional for a sentry of any sentient species to wander away from their post like this, especially if Taurani’s goons had been making noises as Bha had said.

  “Well, why don’t I just scoot back up to my apartments, then, Iphini. You go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He put a brave face on it, but he had every intention of sprinting as soon as the girl was around a corner.

  She surprised him by shaking her head. “No, I will see you to your door as I promised Angara Ksaka.”

  He tried to smile at her, but felt it twist sickeningly on his face.

  Together they moved down the hall, slowing as they reached each offset jink in the path, gazing around the shallow corners, and then moving on into the next segment of corridor. There was no sign of the Leemuk guard anyway along their route.

  As they passed the tight juncture where the nano-attack had taken place, Marcus felt a cold shiver run up his back and into his scalp. He knew that, in some way, he was still not processing t
he reality that someone was angry enough to want to kill him. The method of attack was exotic and strange enough that it still had not registered with the buried, instinctual level of his brain.

  Still, though, as they moved past that now-familiar twist, a similar twist pulled at his gut, and the cold fingers of fear pushing through his hair became more insistent.

  By the time they approached the last section of hall before his rooms, he was jumping at every imaginary sound, ready to tear off down the corridor at the first sign of danger. He cursed Bha’s presence, keeping him moving at such a sedate pace when his hammering heart counseled that he spring as fast as he could for the safety of his apartment.

  There would be another Leemuk at his door. Or there should be, anyway. But as they made their way through the final twist in the corridor, Marcus’s hand raised to greet his stalwart defender, the rigid, official smile slid off his face.

  There was no one standing before his door. There was, however, someone in the hall. A body was slumped on the textured flooring before the big double doors to his rooms. Wrapped in a dark cloak, he could not make out any details, but it didn’t seem bulky enough to be a Leemuk.

  Marcus reached back and pushed Iphini Bha behind the corner. She slapped his hands away, however, and moved back around to glare at him, then past him to the door. Her big eyes fell to the shape in front of the door and her expression darkened.

  Before he could stop her, she moved past him and to the prone figure. Her eyes flicked back and forth from one pinched end of the hall segment to the other, walking with a strange-yet-graceful, sideways gait. Marcus hurried to catch up.

  As they drew near, he saw that it was not a single figure by the door, but two; one significantly larger than the other. His mind skittered away from the smaller figure, focusing on the man-sized shape as if in self-defense.

  The body was draped in a cowled robe, hood pulled up over the face. As Iphini moved around them, one hand over her mouth, he forced himself to kneel beside the larger body, checking first for any sign of blood on the floor. There was none, but he felt no better for that.