“Copy of Taz?” he asked. “Two Taz?”
“Only one.” I motioned at the mirror. “Reflection.”
“Ree. Fleck. Shun,” he repeated—and then he laughed.
Ah, gods, Singer, I understand you so much better. To hear that glorious laugh, to see his face light up like the rising sun, the flash of his teeth in a grin—no wonder she was willing to kill, steal, run drugs, commit gods only knew what other crimes, and in the end give up her freedom, maybe even her life, for him.
My apartment EI spoke out of the air. “Do you wish me to cover the mirrors to calm your uneducated guest?”
“Ho!” Taz jumped, alarm flashing across his face.
I wondered if it was possible to throttle an EI. “No. I wish you to shut up.”
“Who?” Taz demanded.
I’d never given the EI a name, so I just said, “EI.”
“Eeyai? Where?”
“Part of my circle.” It was sort of true, given a liberal enough definition for “kith and kin.”
“Dust Knight?”
Now that was an intriguing response. I didn’t actually have a “circle” in the Undercity; I neither ran with a gang nor headed a family. It had never occurred to me that people would see the Dust Knights as my circle, but I rather liked the idea.
“Nahya,” I said. “Not a knight. A pest.”
He laughed again, and it was worth putting up with the EI just to hear Taz’s reaction.
The lift stopped and the doors opened into my living room.
“Eh?” Taz stopped smiling.
“Umm,” his daughter said sleepily.
“Shhh,” Taz murmured, patting her back. He looked at me.
“Is safe.” I lifted my hand, inviting him to enter.
Taz walked down the three steps into my sunken living room with extreme caution, is if he thought the place might explode. The window wall stood on our right, filling the place with light.
A woman’s deep voice rumbled. “Taz?”
With a start, I realized Singer was sitting on the floor by the wall, leaning against the glass. She looked as if she were just waking up.
“Eh, Sings.” Taz exhaled, and until that moment I didn’t realize how wound up he had become during our journey. He hid his reactions well, but when he saw Singer, it was as if some invisible vise let him go and he could relax.
As the doors closed behind us, Singer rose to her feet, rubbing her back. Tall and muscled, with her torn shirt revealing her narrow waist and well-developed abs, she looked like some warrior goddess. “Good path here?” she asked Taz.
“Yah.” He went over to her.
“Eh.” Their daughter mimicked them as she reached her pudgy arms out to her mother.
“Little jan.” Singer took the girl and hefted her up in her arms. “Always heavier.” She seemed pleased, if it was possible to read that response from her gravely voice.
Taz rubbed his arms. “Yah, heavy.”
That was it, the extent of their reunion after what had to be one of the most emotion-packed days either had ever experienced. And I thought Jak and I had trouble expressing ourselves. Then again, they didn’t seem to need more. They shared a Kyle bond Jak and I would never know.
“Jak here?” I asked Singer.
“Nahya,” Singer said. “Went back to casino.”
Well, so, he did have a business to run, illegal or not.
Singer put her daughter on the floor, and the girl held onto her leg, looking around the room with the universal unabashed curiosity of a small child.
“Room talks,” Singer added.
“What, my living room?” I asked.
“Yah. Can’t ken.”
“Jibbers,” I agreed.
The EI’s voice came into the air. “I don’t think your guest understands me.”
I switched into Cries dialect. “Probably not.” I dropped onto the couch and leaned back, giving in to my fatigue. The couch shifted, trying to make itself more comfortable.
“What did you want to tell Singer?” I asked the EI.
“That I needed to reach you.”
“Well, here I am.”
When I started talking to the EI, Taz and Singer turned to each other and forgot about me. They sat at the top of the steps by the window, and gazed at the view with their daughter between them. Watching them, I hurt inside. This might be their last time together. I’d heard that psions developed deep emotional bonds. They shared a part of their minds at a subconscious level. I envied them.
“Singer,” I said.
She glanced at me. “Yah?”
I sat up and showed her the image recorder on my gauntlet. “Take fleck?”
She scowled at me. “Why?”
“Prove you came here. For the bargain.”
Comprehension came into her expression. I wanted a picture to prove she had actually left the Undercity to give herself up in return for amnesty for her family.
“Yah, do fleck,” she said.
Max, get a good picture of the three of them, I thought.
A click came from my gauntlet. Done.
When Singer and Taz heard the click, they turned back to the view, which was undoubtedly more interesting to them than I would ever be. I let myself sink back into the sofa cushions.
“EI,” I said. “What did you want to tell me?”
“Colonel Majda has been trying to reach you.”
Nor surprise there. I closed my eyes.
“Shall I comm her?” the EI asked.
Once I talked to Lavinda, that was it. No matter what I negotiated for Singer, the life she and her family knew would be over. Before that happened, she needed time to talk to Taz, to be with him and their daughter. She needed a chance to say good-bye.
“Not now,” I said softly.
I hadn’t realized I fell asleep on the couch until I awoke. Shadows filled the room. The sun had moved in the sky, descending to the horizon, and the window-wall polarized in response, darkening the living room. Singer and Taz had fallen asleep leaning against the window with their daughter curled between them.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and spoke in a low voice. “EI, can you locate Colonel Majda?”
“Possibly. Shall I comm her?”
“No, just tell me where I can find her.”
“If she follows her usual schedule, she will go into work several hours early. She is probably already in her office at the Selei Building.”
I didn’t need to ask how it knew her schedule. At least the Majdas didn’t try to hide the fact that they linked to “my” penthouse EI.
In any case, it was time to become my above-city self.
I had last visited the Selei Building in downtown Cries when the Majdas appointed me to a task force that investigated a smuggling ring in the Undercity. Today I walked into the spacious lobby with no invitation. Transparent panels stretched from the floor to the high ceiling around the edges of the lobby, supposedly nothing more than decoration. Right. Security used them to watch people. I had dressed in an elegant suit, dove grey with the barest shimmer. I didn’t look like myself. The expensive cut of my suit and my military carriage said I belong here.
The seal of the Pharaoh’s Army dominated the back wall, a ruby pyramid within a circle. The other walls had emblems of the other branches of ISC: the old-fashioned sailing ship of the Imperial Fleet; a Jag starfighter for the J-Force; two crossed stalks of grain for the Advance Services Corps. The tower served as a conference center, supposedly for any group that wished to reserve the space, but given the military symbols that dominated the lobby, I had a good guess as to what “any group” meant.
A receptionist sat at the gleaming counter, a man rather than a robot, which also spoke to the high level of this building. I went over to him. “My greetings.”
He regarded me coolly. “Yes?”
“I’m here to see Colonel Majda.”
His eyebrows went up just the slightest amount. “Do you have an appointment?”
I me
t his gaze. “No.”
“I will notify her aide.” He looked down at me from his high seat. “Your name?”
“Tell her Bhaajan is here.”
He didn’t deign to answer, he just tapped in a message at his screen. “You may come back in two days. I will have an answer then as to whether or not Colonel Majda will see you.”
Yah, and screw that. I just looked at him.
A beep came from his screen. He glanced down—and this time his eyebrows really did go up. “Well. It appears the colonel will see you now.” He sounded disappointed. Turning his cool gaze back to me, he added, “I will need your full name for your badge.”
I only had one name, so I said, “Major Bhaajan.”
At the word “Major,” he seemed to warm up an infinitesimal amount. He made a badge with my picture as a flat holo. Some hidden camera must have taken it while I stood here, because I could see the lobby in the background. Then he waved me toward the titanium lift behind his desk.
I took the lift to the forty-second floor, and it let me out into a reception area with another human at the desk, a woman in the green uniform of an army lieutenant. The conference room was only a short walk away, with its glass wall and long table inside. It was dark at this “early” hour, though it was the middle of the day. Right now, normal people were asleep.
“My greetings, Major.” The lieutenant motioned to the right. “Colonel Majda is in her office.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
I found Lavinda’s office at the end of a long hall. It was bigger even than the conference center, with a wall of windows overlooking Cries. She sat at her long desk in front of the windows, facing the door, an arrangement that put her body in silhouette as I entered, a dark form against the bright light, whereas while she could undoubtedly see me just fine.
I kept my mental barriers at full strength. “My greetings, Colonel.”
“Major.” She motioned at a chair in front of her long desk. “Sit.”
I sat. This close up, I could see her better. She didn’t look tired despite the early hour. She also didn’t look at all pleased to see me.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“You are a master at understatement.” She frowned. “Have you found Calaj?”
“Possibly.” I took a breath. “I really do need to see the pharaoh. This situation may be bigger than we realized, but before I say anything, I need to talk to her.”
Lavinda tossed the light stylus she was holding on her desk, then stood up and went to the window. She stood there, staring at the city. Now that I saw her in the full light, I realized she did look tired. In fact, she seemed exhausted.
She turned to me. “Major, in the past two days you have twice trespassed on Izu Yaxlan, you involved the Uzan, even used him to contact the pharaoh, bypassing proper channels, and later you somehow ended up in the Undercity with him. You broke into the Tikal Lock, one of the most protected sites in the empire, and the Lock damn near killed you for it. You insulted the pharaoh at a level beyond imagining, and she responded by sending you one of the best doctors in the Imperialate, a Rajindia for gods’ sake.” She crossed her arms. “If anything happens to that doctor while she is in the Undercity, you are personally responsible, do you understand?”
Well, hell. As if I wasn’t in it deep enough, already. “Yes, ma’am.”
She didn’t look the least appeased. “You persist in consorting with one of the top criminal bosses on Raylicon, someone we would have arrested long ago if it wasn’t political suicide, given the highly ranked officials who supposedly don’t frequent his casino. You continually hide from us, then suddenly appear on our sensors deep in the aqueducts, demand to see the pharaoh, disappear again, then reappear when we get a report about you leaving the Undercity with an unregistered male and child. If that’s not enough, oh yes excuse me, you are harboring the worst criminal on our wanted list in your protected apartment, which means we can’t go in to get her, by our own decree. Bhaajan, what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”
I got up and went to the window so I could face her eye to eye. “You left out one thing.” She had actually left out a lot. Apparently they didn’t know about my link to the weapons Ruzik and Hack had stolen.
Lavinda looked as if she wanted a good, stiff drink. “Please don’t say that.”
I hesitated, uncertain whether or not to continue.
She spoke dryly. “Go ahead.”
“The man and the baby are at my apartment now, too.”
“Why?”
“The man is Dark Singer’s common-law husband. The girl is their daughter.”
Lavinda scowled at me. “This does not make me happy.”
“I’m doing the job you hired me to do.”
“The results of which you will only tell the Ruby Pharaoh?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“You should be.” She shook her head. “You’ve angered so many people, I don’t even know where to start.”
“Including the pharaoh?”
“No, actually, she seems to be the only one who doesn’t want to arrest you.” In a quieter voice, Lavinda said, “It’s hard to tell with her. She’s one of the few people I know who, even when she’s angry, genuinely acts in what she believes is in the common good.”
“I’m sorry I’ve aggravated people.” I meant it, too.
She spoke wryly. “But you won’t stop doing it.”
I had no answer she would like, so instead I said, “I’d like to talk to you about Dark Singer.”
“The assassin?”
I almost said yah, but I caught myself in time. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Why are you speaking for her?”
I blinked. it had never occurred to me not to speak for Singer. She was part of my circle. I didn’t know how to explain that without going into the Dust Knights, our code of honor, or the loyalty of kith and kin in the Undercity, besides which, none of that was her business.
So I just said, “She’s a friend.”
“Your friend. An assassin.”
“She saved my life. Captain Ebersole’s life, too.”
“So I heard. Why do you want to talk to me about her?”
“She’s willing to turn herself in. She wants to make a deal.”
Lavinda gaped at me. “Good gods, how did you convince her?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Lavinda became more businesslike. “What does she offer, and what does she want in return?”
Singer had asked only for Taz and the baby, but I intended to negotiate for all three of them. “She’s offering to tell you what she knows about the Vakaar drug cartel. Names, actions, everything. In return she wants amnesty and witness protection for herself and her family.”
“You must be joking.”
I scowled at her. “No, I am not joking.”
“I can’t give this assassin amnesty. And how would we put her and her family in witness protection? They probably can’t function outside of the Undercity.”
“Of course they can.” I had no idea if that was true. After what I had seen of Taz, I thought he could adapt, but Singer was another story. She was a throwback to the ancient warriors who had stalked this land, committing mayhem and conquering people, probably far more like the pharaoh’s ancestors than the pharaoh herself. I couldn’t imagine her operating as a normal citizen. Nor would she ever be free of remorse for her crimes. She was turning herself in to punish herself as much as to give Taz and her child a better life.
“You do know what she’s wanted for, don’t you?” Lavinda said. “You must. Every city or Majda agent who monitors the Concourse knows. She’s committed at least six murders and she’s wanted for questioning in at least three more.”
“She killed dealers,” I said. “Kajada punkers. People flooding the Undercity with drugs. Do you have any idea what that shit does to my people? It rots our lives and kills our young.”
Lavinda
spoke coldly. “Yes, she murdered drug runners. In the service of the Vakaar crime boss, so Vakaar could take over the Kajada drug trade.”
It was true, and I hated that as much as Lavinda, maybe more because I had seen firsthand the grief inflicted on my people by the cartels.
“Singer was protecting her family,” I said. “The only way she knew how.”
“Is this supposed to be an excuse?”
“No.” I lifted my hands, then dropped them in frustration. “She’s a telepath. You have her tests. You know what it’s like. You live with your Kyle nature every day. Imagine you’re surrounded by the worst humanity has to offer, that you don’t know any other life exists or that it’s possible to protect your mind. It twists a person, Lavinda. It destroys you. If it wasn’t for her husband, she might have turned into an irredeemable monster. But she didn’t. She’s offering you a look into the cartels you’ll never get otherwise. It may be your only chance to clean up the drug rings, and you can do it now because they’re weakened by the war. But they’re picking themselves up. If they get another strong leader, you may never break them.” I took a breath. “Singer could have become that leader. The Vakaars would gladly follow her. Instead she chose to do this, of her own volition. That has to count for something.”
“It’s a trick.”
“It’s not a trick.” I frowned at her. “The fact that she’s as intimidating as all hell doesn’t make her incapable of remorse.” I tapped a code into my gauntlet. A picture appeared on the screen, Singer, Taz, and their daughter sitting by my window-wall with the immensity of the desert behind them. I hadn’t realized what a powerful image it made, the three of them gorgeous in the wild, untamed way of the Undercity, framed by a panorama of the Vanished Sea.
I showed her the picture. “She did it for them.”
“Good gods.” Lavinda stared at the image. “That’s her family?”
The Bronze Skies Page 25