The Commonwealth Saga 2-Book Bundle

by Peter F. Hamilton

  “It increases the probability of success,” Wilson said.

  “So this has just taken it down a notch, again,” Rosamund said.

  “It’s one of us,” Kieran said fiercely. “One of you navy people.”

  “Whoa there,” Adam said quickly. “It could have been anybody in our group.”

  “You heard Jamas, the components were all fine when we packed them up.”

  “If Jamas isn’t the one,” Anna said.

  Jamas took a pace toward her. “Are you accusing me?”

  “Stop it!” Adam gave them an exasperated look. “This only helps the Starflyer. We don’t know it’s one of the people here.” He gave Jamas a hard stare. “Back off. It could have been any one of us who traveled together, including you, me, and even Johansson.”

  “Hey!” Jamas protested. “No fucking way is it Johansson.”

  “Enough of this. We don’t know, and we’ll probably never find out until it’s all over anyway,” Adam said. “We got lucky seeing the crate was opened. From now on we just have to watch each other. That does not automatically mean that anyone here is guilty. Clear?” He stared down the Guardians, waiting until each one acknowledged his authority. It was done grudgingly, and with several sharp glances toward the navy people, but eventually they all nodded except for Jamas, who flung his hands in the air to admit defeat. “Thank you,” Adam said primly. “Wilson, from now on none of your team goes or does anything solo; that goes for us Guardians, too. Everything from this point is a joint venture, and that includes going to the can.”

  “Good thinking,” Wilson said.

  “I want the crates sealed back up again and back on the trucks. We will make our rendezvous, and the components we deliver will make a difference. Get to it.”

  “A word,” Oscar said quietly as the others returned to the crates.

  “What is it?” Adam asked. It was almost rhetorical, he could guess.

  “It wasn’t entirely luck we had to unload the cases. The Volvo’s gear box was empty, the oil had all leaked out. One of the seals was loose. The whole thing overheated and seized up.”

  “That can’t be right. No problem should be able to grow that big. What about the sensors?”

  “Good point,” Oscar said uncomfortably. “I think there was a software overwrite in the drive array. I can’t be sure, of course.”

  “And the leak? What caused it?”

  “Lot of heat damage from the fire, so again it’s impossible to say with any certainty. But if your lad Jamas was right about getting a proper service, there’s no way any seal should have broken so soon.”

  “Damnit.” Adam gave the remaining two trucks a surreptitious glance. “What about them?”

  “If this was sabotage, then whoever did it won’t use the same method twice; we’d find it as soon as the first one occurs. I can check them both, of course, but I’d suggest the best thing to do is reboot their arrays from the manufacturer’s software cache. That should wipe out any nasty little overwrite gremlin. And I’ll take a good look at the gear boxes, anyway, if there actually is a design fault with the seals, then a leak should be easy enough to spot.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll partner you.” Almost like old times.

  “Of course you will.”

  By the time they set off, they’d wasted nearly an hour. Rosamund was again driving the lead Volvo, pushing the speed right up to the limit for their rough road conditions. Adam had to okay the use of active sensors to make sure there were no dangerous surprises on the uneven surface. If they drove around the clock, it shouldn’t take more than a day and a half to reach the rendezvous point amid the southern foothills.

  Kieran and Oscar had joined Adam in the cab, along with Paula. The Investigator had immediately retired to the little sleep cubicle at the back of the main cabin, her blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders. Adam waited half an hour to make certain there were no urgent problems developing with the Volvos, then picked up a medical kit and slid the slim composite door aside. There was very little room behind it: a twin bunk arrangement on the rear wall, with just enough room for one person to stand in front of them. Lockers under the bottom bunk held their personal supplies.

  The air-conditioning vents were blowing out unpleasantly warm air. Adam switched the dim blue light on. Paula sat on the bottom bunk, the blanket still wrapped around her. The way her arm was cocked underneath the gray wool and the lump of her hand made Adam freeze. When he looked into her face he was shocked. She looked as if she hadn’t slept for a week, and she was gaunt, as if her flesh were sweating away. It was an unnervingly abrupt physiological change.

  “Christ, what’s happening to you?” he asked as he slid the door shut; somehow he didn’t want the others to see her like this.

  A big shiver ran the length of her body, forcing her to grimace. Her sweat-damped hair was stuck to her scalp, barely moving. She just stared at Adam with her delicate eyes sunk into bruise-dark skin. The only thing that never wavered was her weapon under the blanket.

  “I’m not here to murder you,” Adam said. Stupid thing to say. He let out a little ironic snort. “Actually, I need your help. You’re the one who’s going to have to work out which of us is the traitor.”

  Paula’s compressed mouth lifted in a slight grin. “Suppose it’s me?”

  “Oh, come off it.”

  “Who better? I’ve been chasing Johansson for a hundred thirty years trying to shut him down.”

  “You gave us the Martian data. No matter how much political pressure you were under, you wouldn’t have done that if you’re a Starflyer agent.”

  She slid the weapon back into a shoulder holster. “I shouldn’t have done it anyway.”

  “I considered it a sign of humanity finally shining through.”

  “Then you’re a fool.”

  “You believe yourself to be nonhuman?”

  “Quite the opposite.” Paula eased herself back onto the bunk, wincing more than once before she finally slumped down. “The root of my determination is that I care about people; I protect them. That makes us opposites.”

  He gave a bitter laugh. “If that’s true you should be President of the Intersolar Socialist Party. We care about people. We want real social justice for everyone.”

  “What justice did you give to Marco Dunbar?”

  “Who?”

  “Or Nik Montrose, or Jason Levin, or Xanthe Winter.”

  “I don’t know any of these people.”

  “You should do. You killed them. They were all on the train from StLincoln when it passed through Abadan station.”

  Adam clamped his jaw tight as the guilt ran through him like an electrified rapier. “Bitch.”

  “Please don’t try and climb onto the moral high ground with your ideological beliefs, or even assume we’re on some kind of equal footing. Both of us know who’s in the right.”

  He studied her semicurled-up outline in the faint light as his anger faded. “You really do look like shit. What is the matter with you?”

  “Some kind of ET flu. I’ve been on a lot of planets recently; I could have picked it up anywhere.”

  “We’ve got some good medical kits with us.” He patted the case he was carrying. “Let me run a diagnostic scan.”

  “No. I’m not contagious.”

  “Not likely!”

  “Drop it, Elvin.”

  “You know what you’ve got, don’t you?” He couldn’t think what it would be that made her keep it private.

  “Do you want my help, or not?”

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “I could swear the Guardians I brought with me were on the level.”

  Paula rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. It made her look very frail. “Start at the beginning; absolute basics. You know you aren’t a Starflyer agent, right?”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Very well. Until you have definite proof of a person’s innocence, you can trust no one in the group.”

  “Even you?”

&
nbsp; “I told you before, I’ve been trying to stop Johansson for a hundred thirty years. For the purpose of this exercise, you must consider me suspect. I know I’m not, but I cannot physically prove that to you.”

  “You’ve got one fucking morbid world view, Investigator, I’ll tell you that for nothing. Go on, how do I rule people out?”

  “The sabotage most likely occurred after we joined your group.”

  “Yeah. I was involved with packing and loading those crates. It would have been difficult to maser the contents of one back in the warehouse, let alone four.”

  “Okay then.” Paula started coughing; her body juddered around on the bunk so alarmingly that Adam started to reach for her to hold her down. She waved his hand away as the coughing subsided. “I’m all right.”

  “No you’re not. Jesus, have you been poisoned? Is that it?”

  “No. Just give me some water, please.”

  Adam found a bottle of mineral water in one of the lockers. It was painful to watch the Investigator trying to swallow; she took such small sips it was like a baby feeding.

  “So start with your Guardians,” she said. “Can anyone on this world vouch for them in complete confidence? If not, the Starflyer could have had access to them the way he did with Kazimir McFoster’s friend and murderer.”

  “Bruce. Damnit, yes, I’ll try and check; but the only link we’ve got is a short wave, don’t forget, it’s not exactly secure. Even then, who can vouch for every minute of someone’s life?”

  “I know. As for the navy arrest team, they come from the same Paris office as Tarlo, who was corrupted several years ago. If the Starflyer can get Tarlo, then in theory it could get to anyone there.”

  “That was your office,” he said in mounting unease.

  “It was, yes. Like I said, don’t rule me out through sentiment or belief that I am incorruptible. You must be logical.”

  “All right. What about the others, Cat’s Claws?”

  “Firstly, they have been out of contact behind enemy lines. What happened to them there is unknowable. Then again, they are all extremely dangerous criminals. Perhaps they did this to further their own agenda.”

  “Jesus H. Christ. That’d be just dandy right now, another group out to wreck us.”

  “It’s a remote possibility, but bear it in mind. The most unusual pair we have with us are Qatux and Tiger Pansy.” She coughed again, and flopped her head down on the thin pillow. “Frankly, I can’t think Qatux is a Starflyer agent, but then he’s not the most reliable or normal Raiel citizen, and his insistence on coming with us is unusual. Plausible, but odd. As for Tiger Pansy, remember Mata Hari.”

  “She was a dancer and courtesan. With respect, Tiger Pansy isn’t quite that exalted.”

  “You know your history. I’m impressed; that’s not in your file.”

  “Hidden depths, me, Investigator. So what do we do with Tiger Pansy?”

  “Class her as a definite unknowable. If she is our saboteur, then I think we’ve already lost. But again, it’s your decision.”

  “All right, that leaves us with the two Kimes and Oscar.”

  “All of whom were on board the Second Chance. We know there was a Starflyer agent on board. Therefore: all suspect.”

  “Right,” he said brokenly. “I really am on my own.” Then he realized he actually wasn’t, that there was one small fact that Paula didn’t know about. He smiled, and nearly began to tell her. Then stopped. First, he really didn’t know for sure that she wasn’t the Starflyer agent. All he had was his gut feeling that she couldn’t be, not the Paula Myo. Which isn’t good enough to decide the outcome of a war. And second, the Investigator couldn’t be allowed to know.

  “What?” She was looking at him.

  “Nothing. So if I can’t check individuals for motive, I have to go for opportunity, don’t I?”

  “Very good, Elvin. By my reckoning, it had to take place during the Carbon Goose flight. The trucks were unguarded during a nine-hour flight, when anyone could get onto the cargo deck without being seen.” Paula’s voice had been weakening, now her eyes closed. “I need to sleep,” she said. “I’m very cold.”

  “I need you to keep going just a moment longer, please. There were people on the cargo deck.” He twisted the locks on the medical kit and pulled out a diagnostic array.

  “Including you and me for a lot of the time. Which is why only four crates were sabotaged. The Starflyer agent couldn’t risk an extended process; they might have been seen.”

  Adam put a diagnostic patch on her clammy forehead and ran the program. “Why didn’t they just blow us up?”

  “What are you doing?” Paula tried to push the diagnostic away, but he caught her hand and held it. She had no strength to stop him.

  “Finding out what the hell’s the matter with you.” The array’s little screen began to fill with data. Her pulse was alarmingly rapid.

  “Don’t,” she groaned, sucking air through her teeth.

  “Christ, you’ve hardly got any blood pressure. Concentrate for me. If there was a Starflyer agent on the Carbon Goose, why didn’t they blow it up?”

  “Good question. Simplest solution applies: they didn’t because they couldn’t. They had no access to suitable heavy-duty weaponry.”

  “Cat’s Claws and the Paris team did. So do most of my Guardians.”

  “That’s good; we can start eliminating people now. Out of the Guardians traveling with us, who doesn’t have an aggressor armor suit?”

  “Rosamund and Jamas.” The array finished its review of Paula’s body. “It can’t detect any viral infection.” Adam paused. “It reads like you’re in shock.”

  “Good verdict,” she croaked. “I am undergoing a physical reaction to a traumatic experience.” Her eyes fluttered shut, then snapped open again. “Now … none of the three navy people with us had aggressor armor, Nelson gave them protective suits.”

  “What about you?”

  “Same as the navy three, my armor is protective; I do have weapons but nothing that can take out a Carbon Goose, certainly not with a couple of shots. You must have access to weapons.”

  “I do.” He gritted his teeth. “What trauma? What’s doing this to you? Christ, Paula, your body can’t take this kind of punishment.”

  “You,” she said with a mocking smile. “Now think, if the Starflyer agent is with us in the Volvos, it has to be either myself, Wilson, Anna, Oscar, Rosamund, or Jamas.”

  “What do you mean, me?”

  “I wanted to arrest you, but I had to let you come here where you’ll be able to elude me when the mission is over. I can’t do that. It’s wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. You’re a mass murderer, I cannot put that aside. Thought I could, but I can’t. My body is reminding me of that.”

  He stared at her in growing horror. “You’re in shock from letting me walk free?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fuck, Paula, this has to stop.” His e-butler began to display treatment routines for shock. He pulled an oxygen mask from the medical kit, and switched on the little extractor filter pump as he pressed it over her mouth. “Start breathing as regular as you can, I’m going to give you a sedative to try and calm your body down.”

  Paula groaned. She pushed the mask aside. “It was Kieran’s truck that broke down; he really should have noticed something was wrong before it got bad enough to catch fire.”

  “Fuck that! Your life is a damn sight more important.”

  “It’s not. We must find out who the traitor is, the criminal. If they’re with us, they’ll strike again.”

  “Not this instant they won’t. How could this happen to you?”

  “I’m driven, remember? It’s in my genes.”

  “Is everyone from the Hi—Huxley’s Haven like this? How can a whole planet be so flawed? You don’t get to do what you want and you just keel over with a fever? It’s insane!”

  “My profession is unique even among the general population of Huxley’s Haven. There are not many
police officers. The Foundation sequenced in our need to see cases to their conclusion. Admiral Columbia claimed it to be an obsessive compulsive disorder; I believe it was in fact originally derived from that.”

  “So what the hell happens to the police if they don’t catch the bad guy?”

  “They keep on going. No case is ever closed until it has been solved and the criminal arrested. The difference here is that I was forced into letting you go. It simply doesn’t happen on Huxley’s Haven. There is no such thing as political pressure to protect criminals.”

  “You said you’d come after me. Doesn’t that help?”

  “No. I’m not arresting you now, which is what I know I should be doing.” Her voice had faded to almost nothing. She closed her eyes.

  Adam pulled an applicator tube out of the case; its sedative was close to what the e-butler’s medical program was telling him to use. “Hang on, you understand me? We’ll get you through this. Don’t you give up on me now, don’t you fucking dare.”

  An angel walked into the mansion without any warning, causing a ruckus with the security staff on duty that morning. They didn’t want to let her in. She ignored their protests with the casual aristocratic disdain that was the heritage of any senior Dynasty child.

  Orion, who was wandering along the vast terrace overlooking the huge swimming pool, heard the argument and glanced back in through the open French doors. The angel was standing right at the other end of the mansion’s vaulting formal hallway, framed by the open front door. He could scarcely believe what he saw. She was so beautiful it made his eyes ache; tall with golden-hued skin, and strong broad shoulders. Her long face had the sharpest cheeks he’d ever seen; they were lovely even though they made her chin prominent. Straight, pale brown hair was cut into a long tapering cloak that reached halfway down her back, moving like a single sheet of glossy silk every time she tossed her head. Her legs, which at this point Orion would have killed for a glimpse of, were hidden inside a long skirt of thin, reddish purple cotton with a green flower print. He did get a joyous sight of her perfectly toned midriff between the skirt and a plain white cotton camisole top.