Rath's Reckoning (The Janus Group #3)

by Piers Platt

  Beauceron scratched at his head, where stubble was beginning to grow back in. “How are the three of us meant to keep control of a hundred people?”

  “The guard force should be manageable, if they’re anything like the Group teams Paisen and I have faced in the past,” Rath said. “But if they have weapons for the rest of the permanent staff, we’re in trouble. Forty or fifty armed defenders, even amateur ones, is … daunting.”

  “True,” Paisen agreed. “We need a plan to subdue the entire population in short order, and it can’t be going room-to-room, breaching and clearing.”

  “And we’re forgetting one other group,” Rath pointed out. “Contractors. There will probably be several contractors in Training on the platform, and any number of candidates going through Selection on the island. Should we try to recruit them, and the ones on the island, too?”

  Paisen shook her head. “No. They’re a wild card – too unpredictable, and probably still loyal to the Group.”

  “So how do we control the people at the facility?” Beauceron repeated.

  “The Hurasu has missiles,” Paisen suggested. “We could hit one of the living areas on the platform to demonstrate we’re serious. Then we can order them all up onto the top deck, and interrogate them while the ship provides overwatch.”

  Beauceron shook his head vehemently. “No. I won’t be party to murdering innocent people.”

  Paisen sighed. “No one on that planet is innocent.”

  “Only a jury can decide that,” Beauceron shot back.

  Paisen pretended to look around the cabin. “Well, in the absence of a suitable jury ….”

  “No,” Beauceron said. “We have to find a way to do it without bloodshed.”

  “What do you want to do, run around stun-gunning a hundred people? They’re not going to play fair, you know. If they don’t blast us out of the sky before we even get to the rig, they’ll gun us down in cold blood the minute we set down. With real bullets. Bloodshed is justified here, considering—”

  Rath interrupted her: “Listen, Martin has a point. We don’t know who’s on that platform. If we go for a missile strike, we could kill the only people who can get us our money, right?”

  Paisen crossed her arms, her mouth set in a thin line.

  Rath turned to Beauceron “But we can’t control all of those people if we don’t put them under direct threat. We might not carry through on that threat, but they won’t know that … we just have to show them we can harm them if we choose to, right? Right?”

  Beauceron grunted in reluctant agreement, but Paisen stayed silent. Rath decided to interpret her silence as agreement.

  “Okay,” Rath said. “So how do we threaten them?”

  * * *

  On the counter at the edge of the cabin, both Rath and Paisen’s Forges were busy building components for another set of counter-drones. Below them, stacked along the floor, were a row of completed autonomous vehicles, ready for action. Paisen waited until Rath’s Forge completed a rocket motor, and then attached it to a half-finished counter-drone body. Rath’s Forge started on another engine, while she walked back to the lounge’s table and sat down to finish her meal.

  “Are we on track?” Rath asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said, scooping a bite of stew off her plate. “I think we’re going to be short a few. We’re less than twenty-four hours out, so we need to switch to PKDs and personal weapons soon.”

  She took another bite, and then noticed Rath playing with a small necklace, passing the multi-colored beads through the fingers of one hand while he ate.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  Rath glanced at it, then slid it into his pocket self-consciously. “Nothing,” he said.

  “You carry around jewelry all the time?” Paisen asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Come on, what is it?”

  “It’s nothing,” Rath insisted.

  Beauceron smiled. “It’s for a woman,” he told Paisen. “Rath met her some time ago, but he didn’t get the chance to give it to her. He’s hoping to do so when all of this is over.”

  “The one that got away, huh?” Paisen joked.

  “Something like that,” Rath said.

  After dinner, they assembled the final counter-drones. Paisen decided to take the first shift watching the Forges, staying in the lounge to assemble components as they were completed. Beauceron and Rath headed to their bunks to try to get some rest.

  Rath dreamed about Jaymy. He was back in orbit above Scapa, and after fighting his way off the Suspensys station, he rendezvoused with his spaceship, riding the suspension pod through space just as he had done in real life. In the ship’s cargo bay, he saw the planet slide into view, and so he pushed the suspension pod out of the ship, sending it off to burn up in Scapa’s atmosphere. But as it slid away from him, it twisted, and instead of his target, he saw Jaymy inside. She was awake, and terrified, banging on the clear viewing window, shrieking in terror. Rath launched himself after her, but he could not reach her, and he watched as the pod’s hull glowed a dull orange, then turned white hot. He woke sobbing, grasping at the thin blanket covering him.

  Paisen stood in the doorway watching him, and across the room, Beauceron was sitting up in his bunk.

  “You cried out again,” Beauceron said gently. “Another bad dream?”

  Rath nodded. “I can’t … I don’t know how to stop them.”

  “You get nightmares every night,” Paisen pointed out, “yet I’m the one who was tortured. What’s wrong with this picture?”

  Rath collapsed back onto his pillow, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t know. With my memory, my mind just keeps replaying things, over and over. And my dreams have always felt so real.”

  “You haven’t slept more than a few hours each night since we left New Liberia. Is it always like this?” Beauceron asked.

  “Yes.”

  “With the cash we take from the Group, you could look into a memory wipe,” Paisen suggested.

  “Yeah,” Rath said. “That was the plan. But I promised Martin he could arrest me, so that he would help me find you.”

  “And you’ll need your memory intact to testify against the Group,” Beauceron told him.

  “I know,” Rath said. “Just remember you said you would try to find a way to get my memory erased after the trial.”

  Beauceron shrugged. “I will try, but … it’s an illegal operation.”

  Paisen shook her head. “Well, considering you never sleep, you’re in luck: it’s your turn to man the Forges,” Paisen said.

  Rath swung his legs out of the bunk. “Are the PKDs done?”

  “Yeah. And primary weapons. You’re up to sidearms and grenades, then my infiltration gear.”

  “Okay,” he yawned. “See you in a few hours.”

  He palmed the door open to find Mikolos standing there, about to enter.

  “Ah, you’re all up? Good,” he noted. “Offensive systems checks are complete. We exit FTL in eighteen hours.”

  7

  Professor Entenari tapped her bracelet against her apartment door and the lock illuminated in response, changing gradually from red to green. She pushed her way inside, shutting the door behind her, before turning to stow her overcoat in the front hall closet. As she slid the closet door closed, she felt a puff of air on the back of her neck.

  “Don’t make a sound,” the man whispered.

  She froze.

  “Living room,” he ordered.

  Shaking, she took a seat on the couch, and only then did she look at her attacker. He stood in the center of the living room, looking down at her. He wore a thin cloth mask over his face, but at the base of his neck, she saw bright pink welts that indicated a recent, nasty burn. A matte-black handgun was gripped in his right hand.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “To talk,” he told her.

  He held up a datascroll with his free hand, and she saw a video on the screen. She recognized it as footage taken from a secur
ity camera in the university’s lobby. Two men and a woman were standing by the reception desk; they appeared to talk for a short time, and then walked out of the frame.

  “Do you recognize them?”

  She nodded silently.

  “They visited your classroom. What did they want?”

  “They wanted my help. The short man’s father had died recently, and left him a riddle to solve.”

  “And did you solve it?”

  “Yes.” Her cat padded softly into the living room, and seeing Entenari seated on the couch, leapt up next to her. The cat was a Persian: tan, with black, tufted ears and bright green eyes. He meowed at Entenari, but she kept her eyes on the intruder.

  “What was the answer to the riddle?” he asked.

  “A planet called Fusoria.”

  Undeterred, the cat hopped down from the couch and rubbed himself against the man’s leg, purring. He watched it in silence until it grew bored, and left. Then he raised the pistol, drawing a bead on Entenari’s forehead.

  “I’m telling the truth,” she said.

  “I know.”

  She took a deep breath, and forced her gaze away from the barrel of the pistol, up into his cold eyes. “You can kill me now, and then spend valuable time cleaning up, and filing your report, or whatever it is you do next. And perhaps, everything I know will die with me.”

  He flipped the safety off.

  “… but what I know may not die with me. I may have left Fusoria’s location with a trusted friend, with instructions to publicize it should I die unexpectedly.”

  She held her breath, but the man’s finger stayed on the gun’s trigger guard.

  “So … you could leave, and trust that I have no interest whatsoever in sharing what I know,” she continued, fighting to keep the nerves from her voice. “Those people left my office just after six p.m. yesterday evening. They would have needed to find and charter a private spacecraft for the trip to Fusoria. That takes time. That means they have, at most, about a fifteen hour head start on you. If you left right now, you could arrive soon after they did.”

  She glanced at the pistol.

  “And if you’re lucky, and your ship is fast … you may even arrive at the same time.”

  8

  The commotion woke Dasi early. She dressed quickly and stuck her head out of her door, to find a large group of medical personnel gathered by the elevators, all carrying luggage. Curious, she followed them, but the elevator doors closed before she got there. Then two more nurses joined her, wheeling bags behind them, and pressed the call button. She knew better than to ask them what was going on, so she merely smiled at them. They smiled politely back.

  “I cannot wait to get a good meal,” one observed, as the elevator doors opened again.

  “Oh god, I know. I’m just looking forward to going out for drinks!”

  The women boarded, and Dasi followed. A minute later they emerged on the upper deck. Dasi walked outside and leaned against the metal bulkhead to watch. Several doctors were loading their bags onto the air car: they climbed in, and the air car lifted off, heading for the island. Dasi watched for nearly an hour as the air car shuttled all of the medical personnel to the island, and soon after, caught a glimpse of the shuttle descending through the clouds over the island. Her stomach grumbled, and she realized breakfast was nearly over – she hurried back down into the facility.

  She was late starting her chores, but no one ever seemed to mind when she did them – in fact, she had a strong suspicion that Bekka had deactivated several cleaning drones just to give her a job to do. But the stern woman was right: as crazy as it sounded, she found she looked forward to her cleaning routine each morning. She was mopping the corridor in the living quarters when the elevators opened and a group of doctors Dasi didn’t recognize walked out, following Bekka.

  “You’ll find your dorm rooms on this level,” Bekka told them. She gave Dasi a tight smile. “Please leave your luggage in your assigned room, and we’ll continue your orientation down in the cafeteria.”

  They disappeared a minute later, and Dasi continued mopping the hall. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned.

  “Charl! You got my message!” she cried.

  She was so relieved to see a familiar face, she found herself hugging the senator without thinking.

  This man had Khyron killed.

  She stepped back, but found herself still wrapped in his arms.

  “I came as soon as I could,” he told her.

  He leaned forward as if to kiss her, but she shrank away.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “I just … seeing you again, I thought I had put those emotions behind me, and moved on, but ….”

  “It’s okay,” she said, extracting herself politely from his arms. “It’s just been a long few weeks. Can we go somewhere private?” Dasi asked.

  “Of course.” He leaned forward, embracing her again. Dasi held her hands up protectively, but then she heard his voice whispering in her ear. “Nothing’s private here – everything is being recorded.”

  Dasi felt a shiver of fear.

  He’s scared of them.

  Her stomach dropped with the realization, but when he let go, she led him into her room, and took a seat on the bed. Lizelle sat on the easy chair.

  “So they have you mopping floors?” he asked, smiling weakly. “Not exactly what you had in mind as a resume builder after running PR for a major political campaign.”

  “It’s fine,” she told him. “I don’t care about that. It’s just … I need to know what’s going to happen to me, you know?” She pulled her knees up, hugging them to her chest. “I know I learned some things I shouldn’t have … but I still have no idea what it all means. And I know not to try to figure anything else out while I’m here.”

  “Good,” Lizelle agreed. “Ignorance is your best defense.”

  “But Charl, it feels like I’ve been sentenced to life without parole, and I can’t … I need to know there’s an end in sight. I’d like to talk to somebody about when I can leave. So I thought you might know. Or at least, you might be able to help.”

  Lizelle cleared his throat, and Dasi watched as he struggled to find the right words. “It’s a tricky situation, Dasi. And my hands are a bit tied … I took a big risk just to get you here, to save your life. I don’t have much capital left to use, if that makes sense.”

  Dasi’s face fell.

  “What if I was able to visit you more often, to give you someone to talk to?”

  “Why would you do that?” she asked, frowning.

  “Because I like seeing you … because I love you, Dasi.”

  Embarrassed, she looked away. “That night was a mistake. I love – loved – Khyron, and then I betrayed his trust with you, and I never came clean with him. And I can’t forgive myself. And every time I see you, it’s like someone’s holding up a mirror and forcing me to see all the terrible things I’ve done.”

  “You’re not a monster, Dasi. Human nature is a funny thing. And you can’t blame yourself for his death.”

  “I don’t!” she snapped, eyes flashing with anger.

  Lizelle’s face fell. “Ah. Then you blame me?”

  “I … I don’t know what to think. I’m sorry I misled you with that hug. You have to understand, no one even talks to me here, they’re not allowed to. It’s like being in solitary confinement, except you’re forced to watch everyone interacting normally around you all the time. I feel like a ghost. So, when I saw someone I knew for the first time, it was … anyway, I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize to me, ever. I, on the other hand, will probably be apologizing to you for the rest of our lives.”

  “If you’re so sorry, then … get me out of here,” she suggested.

  He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Dasi, without revealing too much, my influence is severely constrained in this case. I’m a powerful man, but this … organization … has other people that oversee it, not just me. And by giving K
hyron access to the Senate databases, I unwittingly exposed the whole operation, or nearly so, which is the most serious offense one can commit. And two people died for it. You were very nearly the third.”

  “Two people?”

  “Mm-hm. Khyron and the attorney you spoke to … I forget his name.”

  “They killed him, too?”

  “Actually, I bribed him, and I was willing to leave it at that. But dead men tell no tales … I was overruled, and he paid the ultimate price for his involvement as well.”

  Dasi studied the floor for a time. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “Am I ever going to get off this planet?”

  “Yes,” he told her, but Dasi could detect little conviction in his tone. “It just takes time. Let me work on my colleagues, and with time, I’m sure they will see reason. I’ll get you out of here, I promise. But you have to help me, too – no more escapes.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  The dial on his watch flashed impatiently. Lizelle checked it, and swore. “It seems my air car is ready for me.” He stood up. “I wanted to stay for longer, but they have a schedule to maintain.” He shrugged in apology.

  Dasi stood, too, and wiped the tears from her eyes. “And I’m sure you need to get back to the real world. Are you heading back to Anchorpoint?”

  “No – we’re not in session right now.”

  “Right.” Dasi smiled wanly. “I forgot the schedule. I can’t even remember what day of the week it is.”

  “Tuesday.” He grinned. “I think it’s Tuesday, at least. I’m headed home for a couple weeks of fundraising. Will you see me off?”

  She walked him up to the landing pad, where a security guard stood next to the idling air car. Lizelle stopped and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “It was good to see you, Dasi.”

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “I had to make sure you weren’t drifting around the ocean in a life raft,” he told her, smiling sadly.