Cryptikon Far Freedom Part 2

by Warren Merkey

chaos and entropy anyway. He drank in Aylis Mnro and liked the taste of her.

  A small blue bird took a perch on one of her fingers, fluttered when she was startled, then resettled on her finger. Etrhnk offered it food from his pockets. Other birds tried to join the blue bird, flapping around Mnro's hands, begging. He threw the food onto the grassy deck, causing the birds to dive onto the grass.

  "Oh," she said, losing the blue bird from her finger.

  "Oh?"

  "I liked the hot little feet gripping my finger."

  That amused him. "You seem different," he said. He took a seat on a bench under a cherry tree in full bloom. Mnro remained standing, and kept turning to view the variety of flora in his garden room. He was sure she didn't offer this view of herself as enticement, but he felt enticed.

  "Different from the last time we met?" she asked. "That would be the short hair. I was wearing a hat to cover a bald head."

  "Different from your recent public appearances."

  "It's this black uniform you made me wear."

  "There has long been a rumor that Doctor Mnro wasn't real."

  "And now I am? The rumor is partly true."

  "In what way?"

  Mnro pivoted slowly and Etrhnk continued to stare at her. Would she notice his stare? He didn't really want to process the meaning of her words. Perhaps he could later think upon the mystery she suggested.

  "Try to imagine a mere human," she said, "building the Mnro Clinic network over all of known space for the last two centuries. I can't imagine it, even though I remember much of it."

  "What are you saying?" It irritated him that it was so difficult to postpone his processing of her information. He wanted to feel, not think.

  /

  "Nothing," she replied, somewhat entertained that she could keep at least one secret from him. "There is only one real me and I'm her. We all change with time. I was a tougher person once."

  /

  She had a vitality, for a woman of her years, that amazed him. Was that excitement and engagement with the moment that he observed in her? "You seem very interested in life," he said. "Rejuvenation doesn't always renew the spirit. You seem very appreciative of being alive."

  /

  "If you allow it, I have a great adventure ahead of me." Perhaps she let her imagination bite her needlessly. Breathe deeply. Maybe it isn't as bad as I think.

  "I would hate to allow it," he said, "knowing the danger you may face."

  She tried to read a slight warming into his cold words and failed. It was vital that she be on the ship! She was a Navy admiral now, subject to any orders of the Navy Commander. The black uniform she wore was a prison. Her empire - the Mnro Clinics - was lost to her. She no longer had any power over her own destiny. The beautiful arboretum faded to gray in her eyes as fear resumed its domination of her being.

  "Your friendship to Admiral Demba appears genuine," he commented, "and it remains a mystery to me. Who is she, that you know her so well?"

  Mnro could say nothing. Even the look on her face was too much to say about Zakiya. So soon in this meeting he had to speak of her! It disturbed her that the evil Navy Commander even spoke the name of the most important person in her life.

  "Would you tell me more about her?" he requested.

  How quietly and patiently he spoke the sentence. She heard his words and tried to measure the intent behind them. She couldn't trust the softness of his query. She couldn't credit his patience to null intent to harm Zakiya. She remained silent, knowing silence was no solution, knowing it could worsen the situation, and not knowing what to say to protect Zakiya.

  "I should remove Demba from command of the mission," he said, his statement clearly a threat.

  Should, he had said. It might be conditional. She had to respond, no matter where the path might lead. "Please, don't," she said quietly, trying to hide her terror. She felt like a beggar. She would beg him! She had no pride, no ego, and no force of character beyond fear. Where was the person who had won the hearts of all humanity for the gift of continuity?

  A small iridescent bird landed on her shoulder and began pecking at her shiny, Navy-regulation earring. She ignored it. So fresh out of rejuvenation and storage, she had no augments to help her cope with what amounted to combat.

  "It is a probability," he said.

  Meaning a certainty. She was ready to beg. Why, why, why? "Why?" she asked.

  "She has the boy," he replied.

  "What of it?" She stifled a surge of anger here. She couldn't tolerate the thought of Sammy being a pawn. He was so mysterious and so precious, it was impossible to allow his exposure to this level of menace. He already had suffered more than a lifetime's amount of terror.

  "The Hub Mission is too dangerous for children," Etrhnk replied.

  "Why should the Navy value public opinion?" she rejoined.

  "It doesn't. The boy belongs on Earth."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know why," he answered.

  The admission of ignorance startled her, almost strengthened her.

  Etrhnk stood up, picked a cherry blossom cluster from a low branch. He pulled off flower petals and crushed them between his thumb and fingertips. He smelled the tips of his fingers. "I'm not allowed to tell you certain things," he said. "Nor do I understand them well enough to make you understand. The simplified outcome is that you and Demba and the boy have destabilized my position, perhaps fatally."

  She was shocked again, and grimly happy that Etrhnk felt threatened. "I can't imagine how! You command the Union Navy, and through it, the entire Union. Who can pull you down?"

  "Admiral Demba disappeared from surveillance during my detention of Pan. I assume she told you where she went. I wonder if she told you about a certain dangerous entity."

  "The Lady -"

  Etrhnk suddenly stepped close - too close - and put a cherry-blossom-scented fingertip on her lips, silencing her before she could finish the phrase. "I'm a dead man." He shrugged. The humble gesture would have registered, but other things kept her attention. "I've always been a dead man. I can let Demba keep her command. I can allow you to sail with the Freedom. I think I gain time, though not much, by doing neither."

  Did he mean to kill Zakiya? Why hadn't he killed her already, especially if she posed such a threat to his life? She could hardly contain the trembling of her fear - she was sure she could not contain it, could not keep it from his knowing stare. He stared at her, and she realized his eyes had never left her during this meeting. What did that mean?

  /

  Mnro pulled his finger away from her mouth. She pushed his hand away but he brought it back. He put his finger on the side of her face, gently traced the angle of her jaw. She trembled almost violently, and he didn't care. He knew it was inevitable. Touching her was wonderful. Until Constant, he hadn't touched anyone for years, not since his killing season of life, rising to power through the bloody Fleet games. That was not touching, not soft, not sweet to smell, not pleasing to see. This was. She was.

  /

  "I've commanded the Navy for a decade now," he said in his deep voice. "Longer than anyone else. There should be some reward, some pleasure, some satisfaction, to have wielded such power. But an Essiin, trained in self-knowledge and control, is above simple pleasure."

  "I've told you before that you are no Essiin!" Mnro shrugged away from his touch. "Spit it out! What does it cost me to keep Demba as Mission Commander?"

  Etrhnk pushed a finger at the corner of his right eye and the eye cleared to an ice-blue jewel. He changed his left eye to match. The lighting of the arboretum dimmed, and the moonlight glow cast patterns upon his dark face. She recognized the subtle glow of stripes on his cheeks that a rare, genetically modified Essiin might have, along with the palest of blue eyes that also glowed: predator eyes. She was wrong about his race! He was not Earthian! He was Essiin!

  "Simple pleasure," he repeated.

  "No." She answered faintly, choked by imagining what he really meant, shocked by it,
and too frightened to produce any greater reaction to his words.

  "Are you sure?" he asked. "Is it so terrible a thing?"

  She couldn't think. She could only see these words: No Zakiya; Sammy in danger. She walked unsteadily to the bench and sat down under the cherry tree. Her pale face burned invisibly in the dimness. She tried to slow her breathing. Words came to her, put together by some other person in her head. "Let us communicate carefully," she said, fighting to breathe normally. "You frighten me! Tell me exactly what it is you want."

  "I think you know."

  "Tell me! I can't imagine that you are timid about anything at all!" She was not quite hysterical, but very near it. He merely stared at her with those pale eyes, so brilliant in his striped and shadowed face. She did know what he meant and what he wanted; she was only stalling. "How do I know you will keep Demba on the Freedom?"

  "You don't know," Etrhnk answered.

  "Why should I stay?" she asked.

  "Why are you still here?"

  "Perhaps you know why." She did not.

  "Perhaps I don't."

  Delaying him was a hopeless ploy yet she grasped for anything to do that. She saw an image, fresh in her memory: portraiture beyond belief. It sprang unwisely to her lips. "I thought you might give me the painting of Zak-"

  "What did you call her?"

  "Zakiya! Her real name is Zakiya, damn you!" She flushed hotly in shame for losing even that one piece of information about Zakiya.

  "Yet another name for her. Zakiya. Thank you for telling me. Who is she?"

  Why was he so intensely interested in who Zakiya was? She gambled that denying him the information might