Riordan studied the few Dornaani pedestrians. They seemed unaware that anyone else was on the planet, let alone the concourse. “When Thlunroolt said that your species was almost completely atomized, I thought that was hyperbole.”
“No,” Alnduul said slowly, “it was not. Nor am I being alarmist when I warn you that, above all else, you must not mention the theriac, Caine Riordan. Some of the Arbiters might use that as leverage. We must move quickly to the chamber reserved for our meeting. We are expected in five minutes.”
* * *
Upon entering the elevator just beyond the entry, Riordan worked at remaining calm. Finally, he would meet the Dornaani who held Elena’s fate in their hands. With any luck—
Caine looked around, frowning. “This elevator is going down.”
Alnduul glanced sideways at him. “Yes. It is.”
Riordan suppressed a sharp pulse of disappointment. He had imagined ending his long quest in a wide chamber populated by solemn Dornaani, the bay laid out before them in the sectional panorama of windows that lined the tower’s shining crown of silver.
Instead, the elevator doors opened to reveal stolid walls of fine-grained concrete. The lighting was dim. It could have been a subterranean access passage between any two office buildings on Earth.
It’s better this way, Riordan told himself as he followed Alnduul. No distractions. Hell, if I could just be sure of bringing Elena home, I’d gladly meet them in a broom closet.
But somehow, it was still a disappointment when the meeting room was revealed to be, for all intents and purposes, a broom closet.
Granted, it was a very large broom closet. It was adequately lit, and the furnishings, including the single human chair, appeared comfortable. But there were no windows, no podium, not even a water pitcher. Or whatever the Dornaani used in place of one.
Twelve Dornaani watched him enter, seven of whom were holographic images. Of the five that were present, the oldest was familiar. Riordan adopted the customary posture of greeting. “Enlightenment unto you, Glayaazh.”
She seemed pleased. “And unto you, Caine Riordan. You look well. Particularly considering all that has transpired since last we met.”
“The Third Arbiter’s gift for understatement remains undiminished. I heard this gathering would be larger.”
One of the holographic Dornaani began scratching himself. “Almost half of those who originally considered attending have been called away by other responsibilities.” His tone of voice and public scratching made the subtext clear: like him, those absent had nothing but profound disdain for Riordan.
Glayaazh’s eyes narrowed in response to her colleague’s rudeness. “What Yaonhoyz has neglected to add is that, as planned, three other Senior Arbiters of the Collective are here. They signal the importance the Assembly puts upon this meeting.” She gestured to the Dornaani on her left and the two to her immediate right.
The older of those two emphasized his physical presence by loudly hunching forward in his seat. “I am Nlastanl. I shall moderate our discussions. Do you have any questions before we begin, Caine Riordan?”
Riordan reflected that Nlastanl’s graceless introduction made Thlunroolt seem like a silver-tongued diplomat. “I want to confirm that you are aware of the reason I asked for this meeting.”
Another of the physically present Dornaani emitted a burbling grunt. “It is not your request that perplexes me, human, but that the Assembly agreed to it. Sedged gills, you have no reason to be here at all. You have no official standing with your species’ government, which itself has no official standing with the Accord or with the Collective. To say nothing of the marginal sapience that your race evinces—”
Nlastanl’s loud hiss halted the Dornaani in mid word. “Laynshooz, do not compel me to acquaint you with the consequences of another such outburst.”
Laynshooz hissed back, though less sharply. “I would welcome expulsion, even censure.”
“Those,” Nlastanl said slowly, “are the least of the consequences to which I am referring.”
Whatever meaning Laynshooz associated with that threat, it was decisive. He leaned back and was silent.
Nlastanl stared around the table. “Laynshooz’s derogatory remarks compel me to affirm, for the record, that the human Caine Riordan, while not here on official business, is held in high regard among the Custodians and many within the Collective. He is also our most promising conduit for eventually reinitiating official contact with the Consolidated Terran Republic.”
What?
One of the holographic Regional Arbiters objected. “But he no longer has access to the leaders and planners of his own species.”
“That is to our advantage. If Caine Riordan was still in the service of the CTR, we could not have a purely unofficial, and therefore frank, conversation with him.”
Riordan tapped the table. Every pair of Dornaani eyes swiveled toward him. “I reiterate: does anyone know why I’ve traveled here?”
“Your mate,” murmured the image of Heethoo, one of the other Senior Arbiters.
Nlastanl’s outer lids cycled sharply: impatient affirmation. “We are aware of your desires, Caine Riordan.”
“Then why did it take so long to contact me?”
“Because the Senior Assembly foresaw that official communications would prove awkward. The presence of Nolan Corcoran’s daughter is the result of what many consider an egregious overstepping of authority on the part of Senior Mentor Alnduul. Until we achieved consensus on that matter, we deemed it premature to initiate official communications of any kind. But now, other concerns have forced us to reverse that decision.”
Nlastanl barely paused to breathe before continuing. “Our discussions shall proceed as follows. At each meeting, we shall not speak for more than five minutes.” He held up a hand to keep Riordan silent. “It is the majority opinion that human cognition might be unduly taxed by any greater intake of new data.”
Riordan waited until he was calm. “I have come to wonder something about Dornaani hosting traditions: is it required, or merely customary, that your first interaction with a guest is to insult them?”
Suvtrush, the fourth of the senior Arbiters, leaned forward. “Our decision in this matter is sound. It would apply no less to the other races of the Accord.”
Caine counted to five before replying. “Very well. Then here’s today’s five-minute topic: Elena Corcoran. What is her status?”
Nlastanl unfurled a single finger toward the ceiling. “She is secure. Her life functions are stable.”
So she has to be out of cryogenic suspension. “When did you awaken her? Where is she?”
Almost half of the gathered Dornaani made sounds or gestures of disgruntlement or annoyance. Nlastanl gestured toward them. “Perhaps if you prove yourself willing to provide the information we seek, our reluctant discussants would prove more willing to provide the information you seek.”
Well, no harm in finding out what they want. “And what information do you seek?”
Nlastanl trailed a finger through the air. “Two issues are of particular interest to us: the location of the humans you collectively label ‘The Lost Soldiers’ and the location of the Ktoran cryogenic suspension units that held them.”
Riordan managed to conceal his surprise…and wariness. “Why do you want to know?”
Suvtrush kept his hands folded. “That does not concern you, human.”
The hell it doesn’t. “Excuse me, but that’s the kind of information that a responsible person wouldn’t share without knowing what the other party intends to do with it.”
Suvtrush’s eyes widened. “Neither preconditions nor ultimatums will influence us. They only reinforce our dismay at your adversarial demeanor.”
“You are dismayed at my adversarial demeanor? Arbiter Suvtrush, I have traveled over a hundred light-years and waited months to appear before you, only to be greeted with sarcasm, arrogance, and bigotry.” And no great eagerness to share information about Elena. Which
means I can’t risk revealing that I don’t have the answers they’re looking for. “So until you provide details or proof that convinces me that Elena is still alive, this conversation is over.” Riordan folded his arms.
And waited.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
MAY 2124
GLAMQOOZHT, BD+80 238
Nlastanl was the first to realize that Riordan really did intend to remain silent. The Senior Arbiter raised a finger to still disapproving murmurs. “Perhaps there is a middle course, Caine Riordan.”
So, Nlastanl either has less disdain for humans or less resolve. “I’m listening.”
“Let us formally agree to an exchange of information. We shall answer your concerns regarding Elena Corcoran. In return, you will share what you know regarding the two locations we requested.”
Sure: I’ll be happy to share the full measure of my ignorance. “If I can verify your claims regarding Elena, I agree.”
Nlastanl looked around the table. Most of his colleagues responded with diffident gestures. His eyes returned to Caine’s. “As you are aware, it was the Custodians’ Earth Oversight Group that took Elena Corcoran into their care. However, they are trained for social and political interaction, and so, lacked the skill to address major medical complications in a human.”
“Accordingly, Elena Corcoran was placed under the supervision of the Collective’s most accomplished specialists. However, inasmuch as expertise in human medicine is an esoteric rarity, a year elapsed before they could be gathered and then arrive at a consensus regarding treatment: a phased therapy of reconstructive nanites. The objective was to repair enough of her bodily damage so that she would survive full reanimation, the necessary precursor to surgery.”
“And did that work?”
Nlastanl seemed genuinely regretful. “Not entirely. Before her body temperature could be elevated to the surgical minimum, her damaged organs began to fail. Given that we are constrained to using our shortest-lived medical nanites, the speed of her decline was greater than the speed at which they were repairing her.”
“Then why didn’t you use, well, longer-duration nanites?”
Nlastanl glanced at Heethoo, who took up the explanation. “Long-duration nanites are contraindicated when the patient is receiving certain forms of brain stimulation.”
Riordan felt his stomach harden, more because of Heethoo’s evasive tone than her words. “What kind of brain stimulation?”
“Elena Corcoran’s partial reanimation presented our experts with a conundrum. Once her organs began to function, it necessarily meant that her brain became active. This presented both a challenge and an opportunity.
“The challenge was that, left without mental stimulation, she could slip into a coma. Consequently, in order to protect her mental functions, her brain was stimulated through connection to virtuality. That had to continue, even though she never became a viable surgical candidate.”
A chill began creeping along Riordan’s limbs. “You mentioned that her connection to virtuality presented an opportunity, as well as a challenge?”
Heethoo’s eyes were wide as she raised three affirming fingers. “Further research suggested that if her brain received even more intense stimulation, her body’s own healing responses might increase. If that occurred, it was reasonable to hope that the short-duration nanites would begin to show net gains. Theoretically, virtuality itself could stimulate a self-amplifying recovery trend that would ultimately free her from requiring brain stimulation, and so, enable the application of long-duration nanites.”
“And did that work?”
Heethoo glanced at Nlastanl and Glayaazh. “We have no way of knowing.”
Riordan blinked. “I don’t understand.”
Glayaazh extended her fingers weakly in Caine’s direction: supplication, sympathy, a request for patience? “We are still attempting to locate her.”
“Locate her?” Caine discovered that he had shouted and was on his feet. “You mean, you lost her?”
Glayaazh kept her fingers stretched toward him. “When a more advanced and immersive form of virtuality was prescribed, her care had to be transferred yet again. However, the experts capable of applying virtuality to such an atypical situation were widely scattered. They are also highly individualistic, frequently uncooperative, and often reclusive.”
Good God. Elena, hovering in the twilight between life and death, was being cared for by the Dornaani equivalent of cellar-dwelling computer addicts. Maybe hackers. Riordan pushed back against the tumult of horrors. One nightmare at a time. “So you did lose her. How?”
Nlastanl answered. “We cannot answer that because we have been unable to determine who lost her. As Senior Arbiter Heethoo intimated, the medical experts were no longer required on site. They left to attend to other responsibilities.”
Riordan snapped forward. “Bullshit. They got bored. She was just an inert human, so they drifted off to more interesting pursuits. Is that about the size of it?”
Nlastanl’s mouth became a retracted, brittle crease. Whether it signaled annoyance at Caine’s profane bluntness, chagrin over the situation, or both, Riordan couldn’t tell and didn’t much care. “Your summary lacks nuance but is fundamentally correct. when Elena Corcoran was to be turned over to the virtuality experts, the medical specialists were no longer present, and the mind-machine interface specialists had not agreed upon a treatment protocol. Consequently, no one had formal responsibility for her case when it came time to process her transfer.”
Riordan was so stunned it took him a moment to find words. “So you’re telling me she just vanished from whatever facility she was in? Without a trace?” Riordan felt as though he was coming out of his own body, unsure what he might do or say next.
Caine felt Alnduul’s thin, almost frail hand on his arm. He realized it might be the first time he had ever been touched by a Dornaani. Some part of his mind registered that as unusually significant, but right now the only thing that mattered was that these bastards had lost Elena. They hadn’t cared enough about her to even—
Alnduul stood. “Answer Caine Riordan’s questions. You owe him that. And a great deal more.”
“Do not take that tone of remonstrance with us, Alnduul,” Suvtrush replied in a dangerously calm voice.
“Then cease acting in a fashion that warrants it,” Alnduul shot back waspishly. “Did you pick up the trail of Elena Corcoran’s transfer or not?”
Nlastanl motioned for Suvtrush to remain silent. “A lengthy investigation discovered that her transfer was not effected by an official vessel, nor by a subsidized transport contracted for that purpose. Rather, she was relocated by an independent carrier.”
Suddenly, all of the Dornaani were looking somewhere—anywhere—other than in Caine’s direction. Riordan, who had fought back up through the haze of barely suppressed physical rage, glanced at Alnduul. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Alnduul said slowly, “that Elena Corcoran’s transfer was entrusted to a loji ship that is not subsidized by the Collective. These vessels are independently operated, serving outlying systems and individuals who require extraordinary…discretion.”
Riordan’s mouth sagged open. “You mean they gave her to smugglers?”
Suvtrush swung a finger through the air. “Sadly, many loji independents have been convicted of far worse crimes than that. They are but one drop in a rising tide that threatens to flood our weir.”
Nlastanl silenced his colleague with a sharp, sideways sweep of splayed fingers. “Our investigators eventually found the ship that effected the first leg of Elena Corcoran’s transfer.”
“The first leg?”
“Yes. Since independent carriers do not maintain regular routes, your mate’s life support module was off-loaded as open contract freight at a high port. From there, another independent carried it part of the way to its ultimate destination.”
“Which is?”
“We are still awaiting that information.”
Nlastanl did not meet his eyes. “Slightly over two years.”
“And in which system did the transfer take place?”
Suvtrush struck downward with rigid fingers. “The human wished to ascertain the physical condition of his mate. This has been provided to the best of our knowledge. He needs no additional data, since he has no means to travel the Collective in search of her.”
“No,” agreed Alnduul, “but I do.”
Riordan glanced at his friend, ready to wave him off. Supporting an “adversarial” human brought too much risk. But then Caine remembered Elena’s eyes, and all he could do was nod his thanks.
The other Dornaani were staring at Alnduul. Nlastanl gestured toward the ceiling with one finger. “We have exceeded the time allotted. At our next meeting, Caine Riordan, I hope you will be willing to exchange the location of the Lost Soldiers and the Ktoran cryopods for the last known movements of Elena Corcoran’s medical cryopod.”
He stood. “We are finished. We shall resume in two days. Perhaps three. Enlightenment unto you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
MAY 2124
GLAMQOOZHT, BD+80 238
Five days later, after Caine and Alnduul met the escort sent by Nlastanl, they emerged from the interface terminal into yet another perfect day on Glamqoozht.
But only briefly. The junior facilitator who had overseen their processing followed them out of the building. “Senior Mentor Alnduul. My apologies, but there is an inconsistency in the registry data for your shuttle. We require your assistance.”
“And I am required to meet with twelve Senior and Regional Arbiters. Regrettably, I cannot comply at this time.”
“With respect, we took the liberty of contacting your meeting’s organizers to inquire when you could comply. He indicated that you may do so now.”
Caine shrugged, turned to reenter the terminal with Alnduul.
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