by V Guy
“Well, we have plenty of that on Petra. Cool, dry, and the allergens aren’t bad,” said Martin. “The world is a little small and remote for major industrial, and too arid for large-scale farming. It’s mostly scrub, rock, and more rock.”
She grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it about her. “I’m sorry.”
He turned quickly, misunderstanding. “I’m sorry?”
“As in, ‘I apologize.’ For the restaurant, for my behavior, for Santa Anna’s, for Selena. There’s just a bit too much to manage for a quick convo. We can spread it out.”
Martin averted his gaze, feeling a little self-conscious. “It is a lot for one moment. How are you?”
Serena grimaced. “I’m adjusting. It’s a different world. A different life. Unfortunately, the old life keeps reminding me that it happened.”
Martin made a groan and clasped his hands.
She studied him for a moment then looked around her. “I like this place; it’s nice and remote. I won’t worry that some guy is ogling me. It’s difficult to know when and if those stares would simply be annoying or become invasive and dangerous. I was once invisible. I didn’t know how good I had it.”
He watched as she stood and paced the room. “Selena once said that confidence and humor are the best weapons. If that doesn’t work, confront. After that? Def-spray and a hard knee to the crotch can be effective.”
Serena paused, remembering Tichner Beach. “Did she actually do that?”
“Twice. One guy grabbed her arm, while another wouldn’t release her handbag and got an elbow to the throat.” Martin chuckled. “The first man was considerably more polite the next time they met, while the other one was extra aggressive. That was when her def-spray came in handy; he cried for a week. The broken arm she gave him added extra insult. I didn’t discover what Malik put in it and didn’t want to know—less liability.”
“He sent some with me,” said Serena, pulling an item from her pocket and examining it. “Why had you planned on killing yourself?”
“Chief Heinrich—”
She scowled. “This was well before the chief. Malik made the clone, for galaxy’s sake! That took advance planning.”
Martin debated his response. “I’ve been under an impossible debt for two and a half decades. I wanted to be free.”
“The restaurant? The ship?”
He lowered his head. “You. Those other things were leverage. You were a disaster, Selena had academic difficulties, and my finances were a wreck.”
Serena furrowed her brow in disbelief. “Because of us?”
Martin kept his eyes averted. “Because of him.”
“Him?”
“Fael?”
“Fael who?”
“Idris Fael,” said Martin. “I was his pilot. When you were born, I was given Pathfinder and sent away to raise you.”
Serena was dumbfounded. “Why would he give you a ship?”
“He was your grandfather.”
She rose and paced, turning away in thought. “What hold did Fael have?”
He released a great sigh. “Besides my making his daughter pregnant? Indebtedness to ensure that I was properly motivated to give you normal lives. Considering that I’d never be able to pay off Pathfinder, I’d always be under obligation. The Curve became a second lien against me.”
“Our mom?”
“Dead.”
“And you decided you should die, too.”
“Not precisely,” said Martin, turning away. “I realized my error and changed my mind after the bluff incident, but Heinrich changed it back.”
Serena was stuck on the revelation of her mom.
“Life was stressful,” continued Martin, downcast. “Single parenting was hard, both of you were energetic and restless, and it felt like all I ever did was guess. That last year with you was difficult. I didn’t know what more to do. Fael was bound to come calling on my debts and see my failure. I thought it best to bow out early, live with some freedom, and leave less trouble for you to inherit. You were adults. You could fend on your own.”
“You would have abandoned us.”
He shrugged. “Coddling you hadn’t worked.”
She paused and frowned, staring outside. “It’s only been eighteen months since I awakened in this new body, but it feels like a lifetime. Then there was the conflict with Malik aboard Pathfinder…he out-endured me. I don’t even recognize the person I was then or before the physical transformation. I don’t understand that woman; she was such an unhappy person.”
“Who enjoyed making others unhappy.”
Serena released a long sigh and scowled. “I’m pretty sure joy had nothing to do with it—joy’s absence, perhaps? I was living in a physical and mental prison. Maybe I just wanted company, but not in the same cell. That’d be far too intimate.”
An old, long-lost affection touched him. “How are you dealing with it?”
Her emotions threatened to break, and she swallowed to contain them. “Better. I’m starting life all over again, a quarter-century too late. And the baggage…oh, the baggage! I feel guilty with it, but I’d feel even more guilty letting it go. There’s no solution to be found. How does one undo an established past? How does one make atonement to people who died? How do I make amends with my sister? I don’t even know where she is.”
She took a deep breath. “Malik says the net is closing around Selena, although he admits his methods are largely conjecture and he could miss. All I can do is sit, wait, and hope.”
“Until he’s sold,” said Martin. “To face whatever fate brings.”
“It’s a shame,” said Serena, sighing. “Borislav and Bomani fought for me because of what Malik did for them. Another person did the same thing, offering to place herself between me and those arrayed against me. We became friends; we became close.” She paused to collect herself. “Her name was Elena.”
Turmoil covered her visage and a grief encompassed her. “We were connected through interfaces when I felt and heard her die. She was protecting me. How can I possibly live a life worthy of that?”
48: Family Matters
Day 848: Pathfinder
Ileana was sheepish as she approached Malik. “I guess this is goodbye.”
He smiled, affection heavy in the tilt of his head and the softening of his eyes. He gave her a warm embrace. “This couldn’t have happened without you.”
Maria stood alongside her and shared in the warmth and demonstration of his feelings.
“Both of you were indispensable,” said Malik. “I love you, you know that?”
The procedure for liberating the Bedele Creative began with the removal of the implants, continued with the trimming of their excess nerves, a long period of counter conditioning, and then followed with adjustment sessions to help them acclimate to fewer nerves and reduced perceptions. Strengthening sessions were the final steps, intended to help them deal with residual weakness from Creative’s processes. Resistance training guarded them against future attempts at manipulation, and finally, mental disciplines increased their capability to deal with new and unusual situations.
Once all these were complete, the preps for departure were started. Malik did the final part, constructing histories and lives for the women who had none and producing solutions for those who wanted to reclaim their old lives. The women were responsible for learning and memorizing who they would be. Shorter tasks rounded the end of their tenure; a final medical examination was taken to ensure their physical health, and closing sessions with Malik provided them with a last chance to confront fears and troubles. Their departure sessions with Ileana ensured they possessed the clothes they needed, knew the brands that most closely matched the preferred toiletries Malik provided, and were well versed on their new homes and lives. After all of these were done, all that was left was to leave.
Three of the initiates left fourteen Evaline weeks after their arrival on Pathfinder. Seven more left two weeks after that, and now, three weeks later, more would l
eave. Six departed Saturday and three more on Sunday. Ileana and Maria joined them. Jenna and Nina had been fellow partners in people management and shared long hugs with their friends.
“The house is coming along nicely,” said Ileana, her voice low. “The guys have made excellent progress and are excited to show us their work. We’ll get it finished for additional visitors during the next three weeks, making room for whoever wants to come. It’s a big place.”
“Where are we taking you?” asked Evelyn, looking from the Rumbler.
“They’ll retrieve us at the spaceport,” said Maria. She smiled as she imagined the reunion. “We’ll miraculously seem to have arrived with the most recent transport.”
Evelyn glanced at Malik, who scanned the group.
“Any last goodbyes?” he asked.
“This isn’t goodbye,” said Jenna, making an indignant huff while wiping tears from her eyes. “Everyone has already checked into the online-group lodge. We’ll keep hanging out, won’t we?”
Ileana’s eyes were moist as she again hugged her friend. “Yes, we are. The guys are probably on time, and we’re about to be late.”
The women had already loaded the luggage into the Rumbler, and now they boarded. The passage darkened, progressed through the exit sequence, then brightened to expose the craft’s absence.
“I could go there, too,” said an initiate. “That’d be fun. It wouldn’t just be about sessions every day. I could get out.”
Malik’s eyes were glued to the empty space before him. “You could.”
Another initiate pulled her away to the sim. Jenna was pensive. “I’d better get on those schedules.” She then paused and grinned. “Or maybe I’ll just offer Violet some bridge relief.”
“I’ll do them,” offered Nina, laughing and moving away. “It’s why I stayed. They’ll be easy to manage.”
The twins watched with trepidation. Three weeks remained of their rehabilitation, but the reality of returning to a family they once rejected left them numb. The possibility of following Ileana was enticing, the responsibility of facing their parents bound them to a different future, and they stared at the empty passage as an opportunity and doom.
“I need to do something,” said one to the other, groaning. “Or I’ll be thinking about this all day.”
Malik observed them, feeling their discord as it were his own. Selena would face many of the same hurdles, and she had not yet been found, much less had any treatments.
One of the twins lay above. The other lingered.
“Can we go to the Grand Bazaar?” she asked.
He nodded. “You have access.”
She paused. “Will they kill you?”
“It’s a faint possibility, although death’s shadow has receded.”
“Have you ever considered running?”
“Halfheartedly.” He let his gaze rest upon her as he pondered the idea. “It would mark me and any associates with death. That isn’t a good option.”
She furrowed her brow. “But you’d be free?”
“And alone. This ship is already too quiet. Imagine when you, your sister, and everyone else leaves?”
A slight smile brightened her visage. “You’d miss us?”
“Absolutely.” The colors of his complexion warmed. “You aren’t the same girls who were brought here. You’ve grown. That’s good.”
“Grown is one word for it,” she said, her eyes becoming distant. “I’d rather say that we paid our penance and learned the hard way.”
“Decided upon a destination?”
She shook her head. “We’re working on that.”
He watched her leave to join her sister. Their buyer and abductor had legally enslaved them, living under laws designed to protect them. Malik was not the law; little could protect people from him, and the men had suffered.
Malik remained in the passage, waiting until the entry alarm sounded and the passage darkened. With most of the women gone, entry was quickly granted.
The familiar checklist sounded, and another litany proceeded for the Rumbler’s recovery.
Evelyn emerged from the craft and stretched. “It was a happy reunion,” she said, making a crooked smile. “I think they’d been frequently talking with the boys. Ileana could be quiet and reserved around us, but there was nothing quiet or reserved about her at the spaceport.”
Malik made a snort. “You stayed to eavesdrop.”
“I had to be certain they made the connection.” Evelyn ducked into the craft to retrieve the shutdown checklist. “Looks like we’re all out of help.”
“They have their minds on other things.” He withdrew a device from his pack to assist. “It’s been a long weekend. How are you dealing?”
She shrugged. “You give us all an occasional boost, which helps. Every day is busy, and I’m not sure I could adjust to normal life; I’m not certain I’d want to.”
“You could do whatever you wished. You’d have the ship.”
“I’d find Salient.”
He made a cautioning expression. “There’s no guarantee of success.”
She frowned and released a sigh. “How do I keep telling Gala I failed?”
Malik heard her frustration as clear as a bell. Just as he had made connections with the women, so did Evelyn. Their leaving had impacted both of them. Evelyn’s friendship with Gala had been very real and special, and their separation was exposed and accentuated by the slaves’ departures. “We could visit.”
“I don’t want to visit; I want them to have their friends back!” Evelyn’s expression hardened in frustration. “When you leave, my last chance to help them leaves with you.”
He froze, at a loss for an answer. “They wouldn’t judge you.”
“I judge me.” Her expression was fierce. “I cannot wait for someone else to take my mission.”
“Mission?” asked Malik in surprise. “This isn’t only yours.”
“To whom will it belong after you’ve gone?”
He shook his head and made a snort. “I’ll remain until I reach them.”
She gave him a dark glance. “You might be forced to depart earlier. You’ve already said that public pressure will cause your affiliation with St. Gale to end; imprisonment would follow.”
“It will.” He thought of his conversation with Jane. “I’d need to flee, taking the ship to finish the search. Anyone who doesn’t wish to be considered complicit can leave in advance.”
Evelyn stared at him in shock. “It’s my ship.”
“And I’m guessing you’d be by my side. Where else would you go?”
She blinked as she considered the possibilities; a sense of relief touched her. “We’ll be marked.”
“They’d never find us.”
“No, of course they wouldn’t,” said Evelyn, her mind elsewhere. “Where would we start?”
“We keep working for our goal, improvising until we discover something that works.”
“I hope it happens faster than that.”
He shared her frustration. “I have the data stolen from the Starslip station as well as navigational records from my numerous fast-channel runs. The situation with the station isn’t a good parallel, as the channel was still open, but it does offer a starting point. Channel wall densities, channel tube elasticity data, and some intelligence from the Fleet will also be needed.”
Evelyn looked at him in surprise. “Who would you talk to? We have no idea who dropped them.”
“The Third Fleet did; it’s their territory. We’ll copy data from every ship’s computer we isolate, interrogate each captain, then advance up the command chain and have chats with their superiors. In the meantime, we continue what we’re doing, eliminate the possibilities, and hope we get lucky.”
“Hope? Lucky? You decry one and minimize the other.”
He made a snort. “It’s about reducing uncertainty and finding options, which when considered in totality, implies creating luck. It’s all a matter of perspective. I do hope to succeed. If go
od luck is involved, I won’t complain.”
She chuckled in disbelief. “Perspective. The Fates remain—exercises, hygiene, and baths for another week. Then there are other projects…”
“Everything we do is connected to peoples’ lives.”
“And what about your life?”
He made a surprising chuckle, the warmth of satisfaction covering his maw. “I’m living it. It’s the best one I could have around the best people anyone could know. I’m living the dream.”
49: Fatigue
Day 857: Pathfinder
Malik squeezed through the hatch to maintenance and strode toward the aft fabrication area where James stood. The man ran diagnostics on one of the sensor modules while two modified maintenance bots assembled modules to the right and the left. His head rose when he heard Malik.
“How’s your progress?” asked Malik, turning to observe the port bot.
James huffed and wiped sweat from his forehead. “It’s never ending. I about killed myself trying to get the first ones made, while Evelyn and Li joined me to double the number. These had better work.”
Malik frowned. “I wish I could make the guarantee. Mapping the layered channels is fairly certain, but finding the adjusters is a mystery. If this doesn’t work, we try something else.”
“And if you’re gone?” asked James, his visage hardening.
“Then you’ll find another way. I’m writing software and constructing new processors to permit replication of my attempts.”
James lowered his eyes. “I’m tired. It’s continuous, this effort.”
“You need breaks.”
“We need success.” The man straightened and popped his back. “I have no problem working hard if it actually gets me somewhere. Everything seems to be a shot in the dark.”
“We’ve eliminated twenty-seven executives from our list of targets,” said Malik. “A major conference for Exeocorps begins in less than two weeks. Wholesale elimination of numerous potentials looks possible.”
The man’s irritation eased.