Selena

by V Guy

  She shook her head. “Ending corruption means freeing contracts for innovators. This gives freedom from monopolies and unfair regulations. You once said that eliminating corruption at the higher levels makes life better for people below.”

  He furrowed his brow and scowled. “Those words were used in a different context.”

  “But what if it works?”

  Malik’s lips formed a crooked grimace. “The idea is noble, but the hope is weak. Offer something tangible.”

  “Isn’t freedom tangible? I know you captured the agent at Catricel; I’ll let you keep her.”

  “She’s already free.” A rumble rolled in his throat.

  Kroes shook her head, resolute. “The agent may believe she’s free, but that isn’t happening without my leave. She’s a full GMI, CSA property, and will be returned should I demand it.”

  His face darkened. “She’s family now.”

  “I have papers that can be presented if necessary, and that’s only if I’m polite. She could simply be seized. The CSA will react poorly should you resist, a response you’ve witnessed many times.”

  “I’ve also seen Central Security soldiers die. You rescinded your threat.”

  She scowled. “This is not a threat; this is a deal. You said to offer something tangible.”

  Malik’s coloring eased back to something approaching normal. “You want my services, you want them invisible to your organization, and yet you very visibly met with me. What’s the official reason for your presence?”

  She relaxed, making a knowing sneer to cover her relief. “You’ve been grounded. I’m here to tell you that Dibbin’s wife, Marina Kay, has made an official claim against your person. You mangled her husband. She’s receiving benefits from Evaline because of her lawsuit against Silas and now wants you.”

  “Dibbin killed three cops and damaged my ship.” He frowned, examining the thatch roof above them. “I was obligated to deliver him, he was uncooperative, and some abuse was to be expected.”

  “He’s a free man,” said Kroes, smirking. “The transfer was ruled a forgery, Dibbin had no criminal record, and Heinrich was discovered to be complicit.”

  Malik considered the possibilities, understood the likely outcome, and his countenance fell. “Martin died, Boris fainted, my testimony is inadmissible, and the offered recordings were no more legal than my words. He was still more than guilty—he was a Magnus, the Dynang equivalent of your commandos.”

  Kroes made a dismissive shrug. “As I’ve heard. I don’t doubt you, but the legal system has no similar grounds. Like you repeated, you’re the family dog, and dogs occasionally bite friends.”

  He stood, glancing longingly at the waves. “Why hasn’t law enforcement claimed me?”

  “They would, but Marina Kay can’t be reached. Her initial claim was made before your incapacitation at Descent, was dropped until your reappearance at Harris; another one was active until you died on Catricel, was dropped again, and then reinstated. You’ve reappeared while she hides. You’re obligated to remain on Evaline until the courts can clear matters. Because of her repeated claims, you would default to law enforcement if she’s found dead or incapacitated. Confiscation of livestock leads to auction or termination. I think you’d get the former, but the second isn’t unreasonable.”

  Malik’s eyes turned to the patchy layer of clouds. “That doesn’t bode well for your grand plans.”

  Her gaze followed his. “If she shows and makes claim, then Evaline Investigative will issue a priority call for your holding. Depending on your cooperation, that could be anything from a holding cell to Pathfinder.”

  “Cooperation?”

  “Numerous anonymous tips sent Evaline law enforcement into emergency mode,” said Kroes. “A request was submitted to locate these sources; and after some careful, diligent effort, they were narrowed down to one. You. Arduous signal tracking all across the Confederation was required. You did quite a job on the Evaline Dynang, which was of interest to Evaline Investigative, but your methodology was what most intrigued me.”

  Malik frowned. A chill coursed through his frame.

  “To your credit, you did make us work for it.”

  “Too many cops talk,” he said. “My crew will be endangered. My family will be threatened.”

  She nodded, a shadow of victory coloring her visage. “Trusted, high-ranking contacts will have clandestine meetings with you. If Dibbin’s wife shows and makes her claim, the EID will issue a formal request for delay. Official visits would then follow, and those less-discerning ears may then find their way to you.”

  “And my words will find a path to other waiting ears.” Malik looked away. “If powerful people were affected by my actions, they wouldn’t come after me—they would pursue my family. How am I supposed to protect them? When would I help you if police can randomly interview me?”

  Kroes turned to watch the waves. “You have weekends free to be mobile. Unless otherwise arranged, your interviews and rendezvous will occur on the weekdays during the day. As to the first, you’re quite capable of figuring that one out.”

  He stretched and returned to recline, his mind spinning. “I suppose that covers the official, public reason for your presence. What is the official CSA reason?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Unofficial?”

  “I need you to work for me. My first task is the rescue of CSA operatives at Catricel. More will follow.”

  Malik was incredulous. “The planet was quarantined, an entire Third Fleet contingent disappeared, and you sent people there anyway?”

  She scowled. “Someone else sent and abandoned them.”

  “There’s that wonderful Central Security mentality. What are you offering for future payments?”

  “You’ve more of our property, and I hold their papers. The other jobs come later, pending the successful completion of individual requests.”

  His expression darkened; he knew arguing was pointless. He also knew she had found her leverage. “You deliver the certificate for the agent, and I’ll deliver your operatives.”

  Kroes stood in satisfaction, sighed deeply, and looked toward the surf. After some hesitation, she walked to the water, removed her shoes, and dipped her feet into the waves.

  “I have other things you might want,” she said, corralling her hair against the breeze. “But I figured you’d first prefer these. Consider this next piece of information a freebie: The Third Fleet closed a channel within the Nowhere system. If my knowledge of you matches my conjecture of them, then I would be so bold to say that the system you call Salient is gone. Perhaps you’ve heard of Starslip?”

  He nodded.

  “Then you know what’s in store for them.”

  Malik froze. He understood quite clearly. His mind spun as he tried to conjure a potential scenario for his friends within the system.

  Kroes smugly grinned. “Maybe it’s for the best. Focus was produced there, and you know what a scourge it was?”

  She motioned to the commando then followed as he entered the passage.

  Evelyn waited expectantly. Kroes examined her for a moment then departed, laughing.

  Evelyn entered the simulator, the ocean scene still running. Malik was remarkably quiet.

  “When can we leave?”

  The ends of his lips turned downward. “Dibbin’s wife made claim against me, and we’re grounded. The only way to stay free of her hands is for law enforcement to take priority. My fight against the Evaline Dynang has been discovered, questions abound, and now I’m available for answers.”

  “Isn’t Dibbin in prison?”

  “Not anymore,” replied Malik, growling in annoyance. “My word and evidence were worthless. I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.”

  His attitude seeped into her, and her countenance fell. “Do we have a plan?”

  “Kroes has a mission for me in exchange for Helen’s freedom. There will be later jobs for the commandos’ freedom if the first one is successful. Ne
gatively affecting Marina Kay, Dibbin’s wife, could have repercussions.”

  “Then we should expedite your plans for Bedele Creative. That’s our destination, correct?”

  Malik noted her assessment and made a private smile. “We’ll go there, enter the facility, and steal their files. They’ve hardline-only access for their systems.”

  Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “That sounds manageable.”

  He paused to measure her next reaction. “We’re also going to rescue the slave initiates.”

  She paused. “Of course you wouldn’t leave anyone behind; this job would be a bit much for Helen and me. We’d need the big guys, and having them return all at once would be too obvious. I’ll contact them and have them slide out of view one by one for retrieval. James can return later with any stuff they left. How many women are there?”

  “The dorms once contained eighty single-occupancy rooms; that number could be inferred from a six-year-old publicity brochure. I’ve discovered no updates.”

  “We lack the infrastructure.”

  Malik rose and stretched, sinking his claws into the sand. “Ventilation, living space, and utilities must all be upgraded. The septic and water systems are all below capacity; they would need expansion.”

  Evelyn smiled slightly. “We’ll finally be the liner Carl Hennis wanted us to be.”

  “Hennis,” he mused. “What a monster.”

  They watched the waves caress the beach, followed the gulls as they darted to and fro, and listened to the rustlings of small birds in the grasses. Restfulness embraced the scene, and a sense of rejuvenation flooded them.

  “What of you?” she asked. “What happens when you’ve told them all you know?”

  “I move along,” replied Malik, pondering his future. “There are things you must learn before I’m unable to teach them, things like the extractors and the life support tables. I don’t want to yield my secrets to just anyone, yet I don’t want them to perish with me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Please. You’re not dying. It could take a while to remediate that many slaves, and I have some idea how much data your head can hold; we could be here quite a while. There will be plenty of time to find a solution.”

  He shrugged. “We’ll see. Kroes revealed something more troubling. The Third Fleet has sealed off Salient, and it could be gone.”

  4: Substrate

  Day 663: Evaline, Pathfinder

  Evelyn’s eyes widened. “How could an entire system disappear?”

  “Starslip,” said Malik, exiting the simulator. “She told me the Third Fleet closed a channel at Nowhere. What channel do you suppose they closed? Can you imagine any particular reasons for closing one?”

  “But channels reopen,” she said, following as he moved to the infirmary. “And what’s ‘Starslip’?”

  “Starslip was an experimental, classified, research station in an unregistered star system. The Fleet tried to flip a system’s channel connections, opening one channel while closing another, but couldn’t keep the planned channel from arbitrarily collapsing. Then they decided to destabilize the initial channel with alternating gravity and null-gravity mass adjusters. It worked. The second channel remained open.”

  He moved to the rear of the infirmary and accessed the stasis compartment, setting it to standard time progression. The hatch was opened, and Helen’s pallet was slid free. They had hidden her there.

  “The technique to restrict a channel backfired. Channel dynamics are poorly understood, but a characteristic they discovered was that the setup of mass adjusters caused the channel to extend, split, branch, narrow, and spread along the gravity barrier. Within the system itself, the surrounding gravity well shrunk as every atom of matter was ejected through the new, open channel. They called me to rescue the station’s inhabitants and recover equipment, as the available Fleet vessels that could navigate the channel had been damaged during previous passages.”

  Evelyn eased the groggy Helen to her feet, stabilizing her as she recovered. “I guess that was the adult version of the channel race.”

  He nodded. “It was exhilarating, challenging, and dangerous. I rushed the second and third shield assemblies’ construction during the passages. Same with the conditioners, except their development was more an afterthought.”

  “Conditioners?” asked Helen.

  “They protect the shields from breach degradation. Breach incursions appeared deeper in the system as conditions worsened, and my last rescue trip was abbreviated when an incursion obliterated the station around me. Two men were carrying a crate to the ramp when Pathfinder’s scanners detected an impending incursion and activated the shields. All that remained after the substrate bubble collapsed was my ship, a portion of the landing platform, and half the second man. We exited the twisted channel, a shield was activated around the drop point, breach bombs were activated, the shield collapsed, and the corresponding exit was closed. The channel never reformed.”

  Her expression fell. “That’s what you meant by gone.”

  “There’s a chance they survived at Salient,” he said. “If the system only had one channel access, then they might be intact. If this is the case, they could be found.”

  “We’re in reality bubbles every time we submerge. Could they be in a bubble?”

  Malik’s countenance hardened. “We’re going to discover if they are, because we’re going there. Contact one of the boys and have him share the situation with the others. We need one of them here before we leave.”

  She followed him into the passage. “Today? We could have other visitors.”

  “We won’t leave until dark.”

  “It’s going to be raining. People will see us.”

  “Not when I’m done.” He paused at the entrance to maintenance. “I’ve sent a message to Serena, informing her of my legal situation. She should contact us Newday or Monday evening.”

  “Can you help them?” asked Helen.

  “We must first find them. More immediately, we need to prepare for twenty-six guests.”

  Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “That’s not eighty.”

  “No, it’s a third. I believe the facility is running at less than half capacity.”

  “But we don’t know that.”

  Determination marked Malik’s visage. “No, but we will soon. Bedele is our first stop. Contact Arturo, arrange a rendezvous, then prepare the Rumbler. We’ll retrieve the others next week.”

  Helen followed Evelyn to the bridge. She was in the exterior passage an hour later when the other woman departed in the hovercraft. Malik completed the discharge sequence and the lights returned to the darkened passage.

  “Why did you do evacuate the entrance, only to pump in the exterior air?” she asked, smelling the new humidity around them.

  “Our air was both warmer and dryer than the exterior air. Anyone with a good thermal scope could have detected her exit.”

  “But you first evacuated our air—it wasn’t necessary.”

  “Procedure,” said Malik. “We also launch into space. Vent to space enough, and you run out of breathable air. Our equipment converts our carbon dioxide back into oxygen; I want that air.”

  She nodded in understanding and followed as he moved to the bridge, noticing the schematic on his portable device. “New equipment?”

  Malik frowned as he approached an auxiliary console. “We can’t be quite as invisible as I’d hoped during rain departure. The modifications will be installed once we enter space.”

  Helen observed the progression of equipment on the display. “How do they do it? How did the guys adapt as quickly as they did?”

  He initiated an analysis and turned to face her. “They had little to lose and chose to retain most of their skills, running through differentiation programs as if they were games while staying sufficiently aware to keep the new information in perspective. Your background contains strong and extensive emotional components; accepting the new conflicts with your commitment to the old.”

 
“Well, it’s killing me.” She paced in frustration. “My past feels real, even though I know it’s not. People I loved, things I remembered, and decisions I made—none of them existed. Evelyn said you had the same issue. How did you deal with it?”

  Malik’s internal focus eased as he sympathized. “I’ve created twenty years of real memories since. Like you, I’m committed to the ones that preceded them. The first memories defined me, but unfortunately, they no longer apply. The new memories you make are what’s important.”

  “But they could be taken away! All someone must do is activate a reset sequence, and everything past the fabrication disappears.”

  “The commandos shared that issue.” Malik stopped to examine a student trainer’s error logs. “I scrambled their encodings, making the erasure and restoration process tougher to initiate. As a precaution, I also created a reset switch within them. In the event someone blanked them, I could bring them back.”

  Her countenance brightened. “Can you do that for me?”

  He smiled and nodded. “They started from zero. Because you already have ingrained memories, you’d need to lose the old to make new ones.”

  “But that’s all I am.”

  “Yes, and they’re all false. We can preserve those memories in their own shell while preserving the new you in a different one. Your mind cannot yet deal with such a complicated structure—you would need to be trained to accommodate it.”

  “What if I wanted the old me back? What if there were memories I actually wanted?”

  “You wouldn’t remember the old to desire it.” He glanced at the program on the console before turning toward the exit. “Evelyn’s returning.”

  They arrived in the passage to observe the entry sequence. When the lights returned, a Rumbler appeared, with Arturo emerging from the passenger side of the craft. He wore a big smile.

  “Sorry about the short break,” said Malik.