by Stina Leicht
“Captain de le Reza is right,” Kennedy said.
“She killed your mother, you know,” Beatrice said, pointing to Vissia. “Your mother wouldn’t give her what she wanted. So, she sent someone to break into her lab. She had her killed.”
“Oh,” Kennedy said. Her expression went blank.
“You’re doing what you want,” Beatrice said. “All I want is a body.”
Angel said, “Kennedy, what is she talking about?”
Shaking her head as if to clear it, Kennedy bit her lip. Then she retrieved her hand terminal from an environment suit pocket. There were tears on her cheeks. “I wish things could’ve been different. You’ll never know how much.”
Beatrice blinked. “What is that?”
“I’m so sorry,” Kennedy said.
“What are you—”
“Goodbye.” Kennedy pressed a finger against the hand terminal screen.
The effect was almost instantaneous. A piercing scream escaped Beatrice’s open mouth. It was abruptly cut off. The lamps inside the glass cell flared. The light was bright enough that Angel flinched away from it. When she finally looked back at the cell Beatrice was gone.
“NOOOOO!” Vissia howled. “You murdered my baby!”
Face contorted in fury, she whirled and shoved Paulie to the floor. Grabbing one of the guns, Vissia ran at Kennedy. Angel pointed her stunner. Annalee reacted faster. The gun mounted in Big Bertha’s right arm went off. A burst of automatic gunfire hit Vissia in the chest. She ran three more steps before falling to the floor.
Multiple alarms throughout the station switched on. The overhead lights switched from white to flashing red.
“Enid, check the door,” Angel said.
Enid got up. “It’s locked, Captain. We’re trapped.”
“Annalee,” Angel said with a sigh. “It would’ve made our lives so much easier if you hadn’t done that.”
“Dock my pay.”
“I’m not paying you,” Angel said. “You volunteered. Remember?”
“Then be happy I saved your ass,” Annalee said. “That bitch was going to empty a gun in Kennedy’s face and then tear her limb from limb. I could be wrong about the order. But I’m pretty sure Planetary would’ve strongly objected to us standing around and watching.”
Maybe a mech on the team isn’t such a great idea after all, Angel thought. Mercenaries. She sighed again. “That’s what the stunners are for.”
“Oops.” Annalee didn’t sound sorry.
Angel stared at the display panel with its rolling view of Persephone to control her temper. “Did you bring the laser-torch attachment like I asked?”
“I did,” Annalee said. She patted the left arm of her suit.
“Good,” Angel said.
Paulie asked, “What now?”
“Hold on.” Angel chinned her com. “Miri? You there?”
“I am,” Miri said. “Captain, there’s something I should tell you.”
“Can it wait?” Angel asked. “Things are a bit dire up here.”
“Understood,” Miri said. “Which is it to be?”
“Plan F,” Angel said. “We’re going with Plan F.”
“All right,” Miri said. “See you soon.”
“What’s Plan F?” Paulie asked.
Enid holstered her stunner. “F is for Fuck it.”
“Paulie, get the other Emissaries out of that cell. Then the human techs go inside,” Angel said. “I assume they’re rated as shelters during emergency decompression?”
Kennedy checked her hand terminal. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
One of the female techs asked, “What if we don’t want to?”
“Then we’ll have to stun you and shove you in anyway,” Angel said. “It’s not my favorite option. But if you insist.” She reached for her stunner.
The tech said, “The cell will be fine.”
“Thought as much.” Angel turned to Kennedy. “Can you help Paulie erase the data Vissia stole from Ogenth?”
Kennedy dried her tears with the back of her arm and sniffed. “I can.”
“Do it,” Angel said. “We can talk later about what just happened.”
“Okay,” Kennedy said.
“Enid, you and I are going to collect environment suits from the emergency lockers,” Angel said.
Annalee asked, “And me?”
Pointing at the space-facing wall, Angel said, “Prepare to cut a hole in that. I want it big enough for everyone to get through. We’re going for a walk outside.”
Kennedy walked across the room and activated the first glasstop she came to. “May I ask a question, Captain?”
“Go ahead,” Angel said.
“Why go about it the hard way?” Kennedy said. She glanced up from the glasstop. “There’s a maintenance tunnel and an access hatch 300 feet from here. On the fifth floor.”
Angel blinked. “Do I need to ask how you know that?”
“The same way I knew about the way here,” Kennedy said. “I have the blueprints for the station.”
“It’s that easy to find?” Enid asked.
“Let’s just say I’m good with computers,” Kennedy said. “The elevators aren’t working, but Annalee can cut open a door to the stairway. It’d be easier, safer, and faster. It’s also less likely to anger the URW authorities who own this station. But it’s up to you.”
Annalee paused. For once, she sounded cautious. “Where do you want me to cut?”
“The lab door,” Angel said, and motioned to the exit to the hallway. “No sense in making a bigger mess than necessary.”
“Got it,” Annalee said.
Angel chinned her com. “Miri? There’s been a slight change of plan.”
“Is now a good time for me to tell you—”
“Not now,” Angel said. “We’re in kind of a hurry.”
33
TIME: 12:30
DAY: MONDAY
PERSEPHONE STATION
Angel opted not to move Vissia’s body but placed a blanket over her. While Annalee worked on the impromptu exit, Angel and Enid began helping the formerly captive Emissaries into environment suits. Then they made the necessary checks. When they were almost done, Kennedy motioned to Angel. She clearly wanted to talk in private.
“Is there a problem?” Angel asked.
Kennedy said, “I think this is where we part ways.”
“Why?” Angel asked.
“Because someone needs to explain all this,” Kennedy said, motioning to the wrecked lab. “And it’s best that it be a Planetary agent and not a group of traumatized lab techs.”
“Point,” Angel said. “What about my questions? Starting with, why did Beatrice think you could help her?”
Tilting her head as if listening to something, Kennedy paused before she spoke. “I’m not sure how much I should say.”
Angel shrugged. “Tell me you’re not responsible for another one of those getting out into the universe.” She pointed to the cell where the late Beatrice had been.
Kennedy shuddered. “I’d never do that.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “She’s not dead, but she has been neutralized. Forever.”
“You’re sure?” Angel asked.
Kennedy looked away. “I am.”
Angel made it clear she wanted more with an incredulous expression.
“My mother was Dr. Xiuying Liu,” Kennedy said. “She had two doctorates. One in human medicine and another in computer science with a specialization in machine intelligence.”
“She created an AGI, gave them emotions, and stuffed them into a human body?” Angel’s stomach tightened.
“She worked out a solution to that end,” Kennedy said.
“Why haven’t I heard about it?” Angel asked.
“Her contract dictated the work be done in secret,” Kennedy said. “My mother never finished. She was murdered while working alone in the lab late one night. It was blamed on a man who claimed he was looking for drugs to sell. It never added up, but I was young when she died. I didn�
�t know the whole truth until now.”
“How did you know about the project?” Angel asked.
“I have my mother’s journals and video diaries. Only I knew where they were. She hid them,” Kennedy said. “I’ve been reading them to keep her memory alive. I also studied machine intelligence, but my primary interest is xenobiology. It’s why I was hired to work in Planetary Division.”
“I’m so sorry,” Angel said.
“At least now I know what happened to her,” Kennedy said.
Enid said, “We’re ready to go, Captain.”
Angel nodded. She turned back to Kennedy. “I guess this is goodbye.” She put out a hand.
“Do you know where you’re headed next?” Kennedy asked.
Smiling, Angel said, “If I told you, would you fill in the station cops?”
“I see no positive outcome for that scenario,” Kennedy said.
“We’ll take the Emissaries home,” Angel said. “After that? I don’t really know. It depends upon how hard they’ll be hunting us. There’s still a warrant out for Theodella’s murder.”
“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Kennedy said.
“Are you going to tell me that Planetary has jurisdiction over a murder on Persephone?” Angel asked.
“No. But I have friends who do.” Kennedy took the offered hand and shook it. “In the meantime, I’ll stall the station police.”
Angel raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a bit… questionable in the ethics department?”
“Maybe,” Kennedy said. “Perhaps we’ll run into one another again one day.”
“If you ever need a small army to defend helpless indigenous sentient life-forms in a hopeless battle, you know who to call,” Angel said.
And with that, she joined the others in the hallway. Following Kennedy’s directions, they were able to locate the hatch in question. Not long after, Angel found herself standing on the outer surface of the station—guns tethered and her mag boots anchoring her. She scanned the star-dotted blackness around her. For now, it was dark on this side of the station. She’d timed it that way to limit the amount of radiation and heat exposure. Not far away, hectic ships made their way to their hangars. Her hands felt cold inside her gloves.
Shrike was nowhere to be found.
“Miri? Where the hell are you?” Angel asked. “We can’t wait out here all day. The station cops are on the way. And we don’t have long before this side of the station rolls sunward. The lab suits are safety rated, but I don’t trust them. They’re Serrao-Orlov supplied.”
“I’ve got some good news and some bad news, Captain,” a familiar voice said over the com.
Angel blinked. “Lou?”
“Yep.”
“Holy shit,” Angel said. “It’s good to hear your voice. Where are you?”
“Aren’t you going to ask for the bad news first?”
“All right. Bad news first,” Angel said. Her stomach was knotting in spite of the relief.
“So, yeah,” Lou said. “The bad news is that Miri isn’t coming to get you.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” Angel said.
“Don’t you want to ask about the good news?” Lou asked.
“There is no good news,” Angel said, preparing to head back to the hatch.
“There is this time,” Lou said.
That was when Angel spied Sergeant Todd as its bulk glided into view. She thought she’d never seen such a beautiful thing in her life.
EPILOGUE
Riku Cemetery was one of the oldest in Amai-Oka. Overcrowded with graves and personal shrines, the terraced circular layout was broken up with tasteful stands of conifers and grass. The sky was a gorgeous shade of cerulean that Angel hadn’t seen since Ogenth. Even the air smelled better—pine without a hint of mold or disinfectant chemicals.
Sukyi had made all the necessary arrangements before she’d died. She’d requested cremation. That’d resulted in the only logistical snag. The authorities wouldn’t allow the funeral home Sukyi had paid to handle it. Interplanetary Customs and the Thandh Center for Disease Control had insisted the cremation take place off-planet. It hadn’t mattered to them that the virus hadn’t killed her—not directly. That had been the bullet wound. Since there’d been no other option, Angel had agreed and paid for it herself. She was glad it was the last indignity Sukyi would endure because of her illness.
She’d requested that her ashes would rest next to that of her lover’s, Sergeant Wesley Todd. She’d even selected the urn. It was obvious she’d spent a great deal of time contemplating her own funeral. According to the will, Angel and Achebe were provided matching outfits, and there was to be a lavish party after she and Achebe finished the little memorial. Angel wasn’t sure she’d be in the mood to celebrate. The only detail remaining for Angel to attend to was little Achebe, who’d just turned seven.
Angel held Achebe’s hand, leading her up the steps. A solemn and quiet child, she’d asked for Angel to go with her. It was the first time she’d voiced a wish.
A warm breeze ruffled Achebe’s wavy brown hair and the hem of her white dress.
She resembled her mother. The hint of high cheekbones hid beneath the baby fat. Her nose and full lips were also her mother’s. Her skin tone and eyes, however, were pale—her father’s influence. Angel wondered how much of Achebe’s subdued personality was inherited from her father and how much was the circumstances in which she’d found herself.
And just how lively would you have been if a total stranger appeared from nowhere and took you away from everything and everyone you’d ever known? No wonder she’s frightened.
Accompanying Achebe up yet another tier of graves, Angel swore to herself that she’d be patient and understanding. She’d expected more temper tantrums, and no doubt those were ahead. All the reading material she’d been able to scan before picking up Achebe had said as much.
The first night had been a rough one. When the understanding had sunk in that she wasn’t going back to her school, Achebe had screamed and cried herself to sleep. Angel had raked her memories of herself at that age in search of anything useful. Sadly, there was nothing. She opted to hold Achebe for as long as the child would allow it.
Angel’s own grief had crystalized into a hard knot in the back of her throat. She’d used the crash course in parenting as a means of distracting herself. There’d been so much to do. Now that she was here—the one place where grief was appropriate and expected—she wasn’t sure she’d be able to cry. She didn’t want to scare Achebe. The weight of responsibility, while welcome, was overwhelming. Angel didn’t know the first thing about kids. And now that she had one, she was beginning to realize how much her life would change.
Is it always going to be like this?
She wished she could talk to her mother, but that wasn’t an option. Her status as an exile hadn’t changed. The elders of Gorin No Gakkō had granted permission for her to take Achebe to her mother’s funeral. A short stay was also permitted so that she could sort out the adoption paperwork. The only stipulation was that she couldn’t visit the school. It was an easy enough agreement to make.
Helping Achebe up the last few steps, Angel then turned left. The matching white stone shrines were both modest—just big enough for a couple of mourners, the funerary offerings, and a flower vase.
Animated images of the deceased activated when they stopped. A younger healthy-looking Sukyi laughed at the camera. Her hair was tied into a ponytail. She was wearing a halter-top-and-skirt combination that Angel had never seen before. The background was the Saaph Paanee Bridge. Angel could see the real thing if she turned and looked east.
The second image featured a pale young man with wavy sandy hair and pale eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He was muscular and held himself with an easy confidence. Like Sukyi’s, his clothes were casual, comfortable. Behind him, the same bridge could be seen from a different angle. Angel had a hunch, based upon the color of the sky, that the vids had been taken on the same day.
As had often happened over the past few days, she was suddenly aware of several new Achebe-related logistics problems. All at once, she wished that she’d invited one or two of the others to come along. However, Enid had gone back to Brynner to move in with her new girlfriend—the one she’d refused to discuss with Lou. Paulie and Miri had also returned home. Angel would miss them both, but there was a lot to do if Ileòke was to be their new base. As for Lou, she and Erik were setting up house for them in Sergeant Todd. Angel had given them Shrike as an engagement present. The ship was anchored into the berth that Kurosawa once occupied. Sergeant Todd was Angel’s free and clear. Rosie had seen to it. And Angel and Achebe would join Lou and Erik once the adoption was finalized—or at least in a state where interplanetary travel with the seven-year-old was legal.
As for Kennedy, Angel hadn’t heard anything since she’d said goodbye at the station. True to her word, she’d somehow managed to clear the murder charges against Kurosawa’s former crew. For that, Angel was supremely grateful.
In addition, the news streams were full of stories about how Serrao-Orlov, and Vissia Corsini in particular, had misappropriated Persephone by knowingly retaining ownership in spite of an indigenous sentient life-form’s claim. A legal battle was ensuing in spite of the corporation being in the midst of a monumental restructuring. The new CEO was Octavia Gau, the former mobster Julian Gau’s sister. The fact that Gau was closely related to a crime family didn’t seem to be an issue for Serrao-Orlov’s board of directors. A heavy financial blow for Serrao-Orlov, the mandated restitution of the planet and disbursement of profits—past and present—was going to result in court deliberations for decades. The Emissaries had generously allowed the citizens of Brynner to remain, provided they agreed not to expand the city’s limits.
“Achebe,” Angel said, “stay here for me, please? I’ve got to put a few things away.”
Achebe gave her a funny look and nodded. The flowers in her hand were beginning to wilt.
Turning away, Angel knelt. She sorted through the items in the bag. She began with the bouquet of yellow star flowers. After she stuck them in the vase, she poured water into it from a bottle she’d purchased at the same time as the flowers.