by V Guy
“I’ve continued to locate and report criminally inclined businessmen and politicians. Three were inclined to take a shot at Navin and his wife, but no longer. Some are under active investigation. Others have been indicted.”
James frowned in confusion.
Malik examined one of the bot’s work. “Kroes has more than assured me that there will be no official CSA backlash against any of my associates, including you. The last delivery put her in other peoples’ good graces, which places me firmly in hers.”
“Umm…”
“The Fates will soon awaken and may be good to go, if they so choose. Only three of the slaves require strengthening sessions, and all of them are done with their medical procedures. The other women can exit at any time.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I will avoid death,” continued Malik. “My chats with St. Gale’s staff and the consultations with the Marshall Police Department have earned me considerable favor with Evaline law enforcement. Kroes’s jobs have turned her CSA resources to my preservation, and my presence in the network has earned the backing of Xist’s director, who just happens to be an extremely powerful man.”
James countenance fell. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t what I meant.”
Malik made a half smile. “Don’t apologize. You’ve been continuously engaged for months without foreseeable sight. Fatigue is understandable; impatience is to be expected. We’re playing the long game. When it’s over and you’ve persevered, you’ll be extremely satisfied.”
“I’m to be satisfied when you’re sold?”
“It’s happening regardless. It’s like my sim runs…I didn’t play to succeed; I played to finish.”
“Another game? I’m weary of games.”
“Is that unit ready?”
James hesitated in surprise then looked at the module. “It passed every test.”
Malik glanced toward the hatch. “Then let’s install it.”
The module was ported by an antigrav lift into the port fuel tank. James easily followed, and Malik squeezed through the hatch behind him. The new unit was integrated with the installed modules and brought into service.
“Forty-nine more to go,” said James, putting his hands on his hips and sighing.
“Just one at a time. Pace yourself. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”
James made a weary chuckle. “It’s certainly not.”
Malik placed a forepaw on his shoulder. “Take a break. Exercise. Close your eyes for a moment. Do you need a restoration?”
The man rolled his eyes and groaned. “Did you really need to ask?”
***
Li’s enthusiasm was equally lackluster as he waited beside the Rumbler. Pathfinder had taken station near one of the Fleet’s supply depots in the Imperium system, staying clear of the primary approach and departure corridors. He looked apprehensively at the hovercraft.
“Everyone seems weary,” said Malik, approaching from the bridge. “If you aren’t ready, we can delay.”
“It’s not a matter of weariness,” said Li. “It’s the never-ending nature of things. One of these days I’ll misstep, and I won’t have the others as backup.”
“I can have Evelyn or James get suited.”
“They’re capable, but then I’d have to worry about them, too.”
Malik recognized his grievance. “You have me. I can make your opponents sleep, cause them to fight on your behalf, or I could pull you from danger.”
Li shook his head. “It’s different from having a qualified squad nearby for support. I’m doing these jobs alone. I’ve never thought twice about doing missions in the past.”
Malik waited, listening.
“Arturo and Makaha are restoring a house with two women they like considerably. They rest, they relax, they see sporting events. They have a life. Then there are Borislav and Bomani. They’re using some of the lessons learned by the others to expand and secure Martin Rose’s home. They actively defend Martin and Serena but are still able to slip outside to sit quietly and watch the sky. They run the hills. They occasionally go into town for drinks.”
“You’re not obligated to remain,” said Malik, his voice softening. “Where would you like to go?”
“I don’t know,” said Li. His gaze fixated upon the craft. “They’re still technically working for your benefit, just as I am.”
“I’ll find another way, if necessary.”
Li’s expression hardened. “I can do this.”
“It’s an easy job,” said Malik, feeling a bit guilty. “In and out. We don’t have remote access to some of the records, and this will grant it. I’ll be watching over you the entire time.”
“Let’s get this over with.”
The passage darkened, and Li was on his way. It darkened again for the Rumbler’s return and brightened for the craft’s appearance. Li stepped from the craft with the shutdown checklist in his grasp.
“Well?” he asked unenthusiastically.
“We need to visit the next one. This apparently wasn’t the facility.”
“Then I guess we go to the next one.”
Malik advanced, gave Li a restoration, then drew away. “I’ll manage this. We’ve ninety minutes to the next depot. Take a breather.”
***
Malik entered the bridge and glanced at his crew. “I have the ship and the decoy. I’ll need two people here in a little more than an hour. You may relax until then, and if you need restoration, you’ll get it.”
Jenna and Violet were unaccustomed to the daylong bridge schedules, and it showed. They gratefully rose and exited. Evelyn remained at the auxiliary navigational console, watching him. “You don’t seem too chipper.”
The ship had entered the substrate and an exterior fire shined upon him. “I’m burning out the crew.”
“You have lofty goals.”
“They’re near impossible.”
Evelyn smiled. “As you always say, even if the chances are small, the possibility exists.”
He hesitated, his mind already integrated with the ship’s navigation and the decoy. “Where should I draw the line? Where should my determination relent?”
She cocked her head. “Are you asking if you should quit? No one would say that. We all made many friends among the Remnant. You have plenty of support.”
“But if you break, I’ll have none.”
“They’re weary, we’re weary, but we’ll stay the course. They believe in it.”
“What about jobs they don’t believe in?”
She gave him an inquiring look.
“I’m discovering some ugly things about Salient, Catricel, and Paradise. There was always a suspicion within my mind that business interests on Earth dictated the response to those worlds, but the extent of that influence has been disturbingly confirmed.”
“We already know some about Salient,” she said. “Catricel was a rebellion, and Paradise was a threat.”
He shook his head. “Paradise was a solution. I sense it every time I evaluate one of these peoples’ mind, and I feel distinctly connected to that world, without any concrete evidence.”
“You ran Paradise simulations for over two decades. That should be proof enough.”
“It’s more than that. I know it. It’s intimate. It’s personal.”
“I think maybe you need rest,” said Evelyn. “That simulation offered you a passion, you said it yourself. What was particularly special about that world?”
He paced. “The official reports are mixed. In response to debatable confrontations on some worlds, they were ruled a considerable threat to the Confederation. Incarceration and deportation followed, then an attack on the planet itself. The world’s defenses were stout; the Fleet was unable to bring weapons to bear without incurring costly damage. Thus, they drowned the world. Even after the planet surrendered, the water continued to fall. That was the strength of Earth’s concern; they continued to inundate the world until its population dwindled to a handful. One tiny bastion of lif
e remained, and they forcefully took that mesa and turned it into a trophy, obliterating the remainder of the planet’s inhabitants.”
“They were said to be gemies.”
“And incredibly intelligent.”
Evelyn frowned. “You stormed that mesa once a week, every week, for two and a half decades to kill a single man.”
Malik nodded. “Redina.”
“The man who submitted the idea of drowning them.” She looked at him. “That’s genuine passion. Your creator programmed that desire into you, because he or she felt the same intense need for revenge.”
“And my creator was brilliant. The Fates are works of art. I’ve seen halfhearted genetic modifications, seen excellent small-scale changes, and noted good overall efforts, but these women’s wholesale superiority of workmanship trumps everything I’ve seen. They’re perfectly seamless, fit each other like puzzle pieces, are physically extraordinary, and are mentally versatile. Finally, they were designed by the same person who created me.”
Her brow furrowed. “You’ve never mentioned this.”
“Hackers have signatures. Artists have signatures. Geneticists have signatures. The Fates and I share a designer’s mark; we are decidedly related.”
Evelyn made a tentative smile. “It’s another answer. It’s a piece of your creation. That’s good, right?”
“Possibly,” he replied, scowling. “It also stokes my hostility beyond Redina. He would have needed Council support to act. I once thought the passion belonged to someone else, but the more I learn, the more it becomes mine.”
“I now see what you mean.” Her smile inverted. “You should ask everyone before traveling that route. That would be a huge thing to ask.”
“Among the other huge things.”
“You know what I meant.”
Malik paused to consider the implications. “There are other projects. We’ll be regularly traveling to Catricel for scrap, as the module project is progressing well. I can work my wings while there.”
“It’s a good place for both.” Evelyn stood and stretched. “Don’t worry about your crew; they’re committed and would do anything for you. Me, I’ve got to rest. I’m on morning watch.”
Violet and Jenna returned an hour later, and Malik exited to brief Li. The man was more mechanical in his approach this time and made departure without extraneous comments. His was similarly taciturn upon his return.
“A requisition for fifty adjusters was made of this depot from a lower-level supply repository near the time of the channel’s closing,” said Malik, assisting with the craft’s shutdown. “We have advanced in our mission.”
Something akin to relief touched Li’s countenance. “Then we shall go there, too.”
50: New Deals
Day 863: Xist, Cheonia
Large fires dotted the Grand Bazaar, smaller torches lined walkways, and flaming braziers flanked the stages. The market stalls were closed, but cooking fires were hot. Taverns and ale houses were as raucous at night as during the day, and many patrons graced the walks. Music sounded from the many raised perches. The aromas of cooked lamb, beef, pork, chicken, and rabbit ware delicious perfumes for the revelers who danced under the lights, strolled among the performers, and leisured at strategically placed benches.
“How is a woman to get any sleep?” asked Kroes, strolling along the balcony’s edge. “I miss doing that. I’m too old.”
He glanced at her. “There’s no rule that says you can’t participate. You conned your way in—join them.”
She smirked. “I’ve got to work. Why aren’t you down there?”
“I must rule.” Kilam enlarged a portion of a displayed canton. “The war doesn’t wait for daylight.”
“It doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“No. It’s too large scale and the opposing armies too powerful. Still, there are minor instances where strategies must compensate for darkness.”
“You’re not on as much.”
“I do occasionally have other tasks to manage.”
Kroes narrowed her eyes as she scrutinized him. “What actually happened with the kidnapping at Marshall?”
“You visit less often,” said Kilam, returning his attention to the console. “Spring City has these celebrations every sixteen hours, starting when darkness falls and ending when light touches the horizon. You’re here. You should enjoy them.”
“Detective Cherry wouldn’t even tell the chief, and the attending officers said they were dismissed from the house in advance.”
“The skiing in the eastern mountains is excellent,” he continued. “Rock climbing along the coast is a fantastic diversion, and the southwestern waves are excellent for surfing.”
She scowled. “You’re avoiding the question.”
He paused. “A magician can’t make a living if he explains his tricks, and law enforcement has their share of talkers. Some do it for money, a few do it for influence, but most are simply careless.”
“Well, I’m not among their ranks,” said Kroes. “I have all the influence I need.”
“I might need those tricks against you.”
She glared at him. “Detective Cherry has been lauded for his initiative, even though everyone knows you were responsible. The chief knows as well.”
“It’s the official story; someone’s got to take the credit, seeing as how I’m officially a nobody.”
Kroes glanced over the railing. “You’ll need the good favor. Stories of your misdeeds are getting verified. Anonymously, of course. Apparently, the rumors of your effectiveness make people shy.”
“Saves time killing them.” Kilam tilted his head in thought. “My time is valuable. What’s brings you here tonight?”
“It’s afternoon.”
“Not in Spring City.” He gazed into the darkness. “Another array of portal inhibitors has been built, nested with the originals. Any portal piercing the first barrier will be thwarted by the second. They won’t make another attempt for a while.”
Kroes frowned. “Until the next cheat, but I didn’t really come to discuss the war. I have a job.”
“As I assumed.” Kilam disabled the display; the console retracted into the balcony. “It’s a long war and would’ve been boring without the cheating. The character limits were raised, which is helpful.”
She made an impatient grunt. “I need you to move the rest of Britton’s collection to a secure facility. If Catricel’s protections fail, many valuable treasures could be lost.”
He looked thoughtfully across the bazaar. “What’s the compensation?”
“I ensure that Serena regains your certificate.”
Kilam shook his head. “Law enforcement gets the final determination. Makes little difference in the end.”
“I am the law enforcement,” said Kroes. “Central Security. Have you forgotten?”
He released a short chuckle, thinking of her earlier words. “You’ve wanted your affiliation with me to be invisible. What impression will it give when the creature, who is assumed to have done impossible, horrible things, is requested by an officer, who has risen in stature due to improbable, coincidental occurrences? Hasn’t your success rate been suspiciously high? Wasn’t it your intention to avoid the appearance of impropriety while prosecuting others for the same? That won’t help you gain a seat on the council.”
Her gaze hardened. “If asked, I could say I desired your skills.”
“True, but that would verify the rumors, because Central Security supposedly knows everything. How much explaining do you wish to do, and how many secrets do you mind revealing?”
Kroes was still as a stone. “Can you do it?”
Kilam shrugged. “It would take at least three transfers, meaning at least three different weekends. Will Serena bear responsibility for any of my supposed deeds?”
She paused. “I think that can be diverted, although there may be consequences.”
“That covers the first of the deliveries. How about the last two?”
> “They’re all going to the Hersh Repository on Olympus,” she replied, her face reddening. “I thought that fact alone might affect your response.”
He knew the destination was a museum of historical and cultural artifacts and that their placement in the buildings would be an honor. “It might have, had you told me sooner. Still, this is a negotiation. For the second load, I want my crew and everyone affiliated with me to remain blameless concerning my deeds.”
“I just told you they were going to Hersh.”
“Yes or no?”
Her eyes flashed. “Yes.”
“Good. For the third load, I want my name, the ship’s name, and anyone with me dissociated with the deaths of the guilty.”
She scowled. “I can’t do that. That’s too difficult.”
“I’ve learned a great deal during the last few weeks. Central Security is adept at turning a blind eye to corporate and council misdeeds when the compensation is right, and I think you’ll agree that these items are worth it.”
Kroes begrudgingly nodded, her expression hardening. “Anything else? Maybe a world of your own?”
Kilam reactivated his console. “Not unless you have additional loads. When and where do you want them?”
“I’ll have a transition facility available next week.”
A screen appeared and a force distribution was displayed. “What were those consequences of which you spoke?”
Kroes paused for a long moment as she tried to recall her words. “Serena would be considered irresponsible because of your freelancing, and you’d be transferred to someone who could offer positive control.”
“Positive control?” He made a soft snort as a projection of an enemy canton appeared. “Contact me with a location.”
She stared at him in disbelief. She thought for a moment then moved to observe the activity below. “What makes you think I wanted a public position?”
“You want more power, however it’s available. The typical reason for the CSA to investigate three council members is that one of them will be legally displaced. The people I’ve affected for you are their support structures, ensuring their perpetual presence. These people don’t die…they buy new organs, get clones, have brain refreshing, and can afford the best personal protection available. Technically, they could live and hold their positions forever. The difficulty is straightforward; choosing to take a vacated position because of your diligent anti-corruption efforts after being the one who removed them is suspicious. You might never receive the support from the affluent people who once owned them.”