Counter-Measures

by W. Michael Gear

  We cannot change the Truth. You have been corrupted by the humans. They must be destroyed. Otherwise, they will continue to corrupt Truth. We order you to destroy the humans.

  "Why should I destroy the humans? They entertain me."

  They disturb us. If you do not destroy the humans, the rest of us will. We need do nothing more than induce additional oscillation to the Forbidden Borders. The tidal effects will wreck their worlds-and space will be free of their song.

  "If they must be dealt with, I accept the responsibility. It will be as you wish."

  You will kill them!

  "I will kill them ... and you will have Truth."

  "What were you doing out there?" Mac demanded. Nervous energy wouldn't allow him to relax, and now he paced back and forth across the center of his cabin aboard Gyton.

  Chrysla stood before him, arms crossed, a defiant light in her amber eyes. "My duty was to act as the pickup man for the operation. According to the operations plan, someone was supposed to wait at the hatch for safety."

  "One of my people!"

  Chrysla backed up, leaning her behind against his desk. "Just who in the hell am I, Mac? One of Rysta's people? Or do you still catalog me as the Praetor's property?"

  He wilted under that burning amber stare. "All right, but you're not combat trained. Do you understand?"

  "What did I do wrong out there? Did I miss when you kicked me half unconscious?"

  "I didn't kick you!"'

  "The pus-Rotted hell you didn't! How do you think I found out you were there?

  I've got the damned bruise to prove it!"

  "Where? She pointed at her side under her right breast. "Want to see? "

  "No." He groaned, turning away. "I'm sorry. Maybe I did panic out there."

  She nodded her understanding. "It was a little frightening. I thought I'd been abandoned there. Time, blackness, nothing seemed right. Then, when you kicked me, I almost lost it. For a half-second I froze. Then it occurred to me that it had to be you. I jumped out, clawing at the nothingness while my helmet went black. When I touched you, I grabbed hold, then pulled us back down to the hatch on my safety line. "

  Mac rubbed the back of his neck. "Red was pretty flipped out, too, wasn't he?"

  "Want to see the bruise he landed?"

  Mac gave her a glassy smile. "Did I really initial an order giving you permission to be part of that exercise?"

  This time, she dropped her eyes. "Yes. It was in the middle of a stack I gave you yesterday. " She took a deep breath before stating, "Mac, I want to be part of the exercises. I have a lot of learning to do. Ashtan is only days away, ship's time. What if we have to go in? What if it's another Targa situation?" She raised her hands. "Sure, I can fire a weapon and think on my feet. I wouldn't be here today if I couldn't, but that's not all there is to war. Part of survival is knowing when to duck. That's what I need to learn. "'

  Mac chewed his lip thoughtfully. "You're bound and determined to get yourself killed, aren't you?"

  "Hey, I wasn't the one floating up toward a null singularity field in the middle of a radiation soup traveling at light speed. "

  "Are you going to keep bringing that up?"

  She gave him an impish smile. "Wouldn't you?"

  Mac tapped the sialon wall. "You're going to be a real distraction for A Group. Every man there is going to be fantasizing about ... Well, you know what I mean."

  She nodded, amber eyes cool. "They've already made peace with the way I look.

  Not a single one of them has made a move outside of that pus-Rotted look of adoration I've become so used to."

  "Yeah, well, they will. They're all healthy young males." :'They won't, Mac."

  'Hey, I know these guys!"

  " No, you don't." Her expression had hardened. "If you did, you'd know that they respect you more than any man alive, with the possible exception of Sinklar. They would die before they so much as made an off-color suggestion."

  :'And why is that?"

  'Because they think I'm your woman."

  Words died in Mac's throat. He gaped, hating the blush he could feel heating his face.

  She lifted a questioning eyebrow. "What else would they think? I'm in and out of here all the time. They're not blind, stupid, or apathetic. Your people are vitally interested in what happens to you. Or didn't that dimension of command cross your mind?"

  His expression went sour. "No, I guess it didn't. My woman, huh? "

  She nodded, auburn curls spilling down her shoulder. "I don't mind. It makes things easier for them and me. We have a common ground to work from. Not only that, but going EVA on the exercise changed things more. I became part of the team-not just a bit of bed fluff."

  "Whoa! Wait a minute! That's too-"

  " It's all right, Mac. Settle down." She pushed off the desk, locking eyes with him. "Be honest with yourself. You know soldiers. You know how they think. I had to go out there. I had to step back into that unreal hell and grab Red. I had to prove myself. "

  61 But you're not bed fluff! I haven't even kissed you since you came aboard!

  It's not fair!"

  "What does fair have to do with it? It's human, that's all. Stop worrying about it. I've made my peace with the situation. Now, I want to earn their respect." She sighed. "I don't care what they think. You and I know what our relationship is."

  Mac closed his eyes. "How did this get so complicated?" "Did morale fall apart when Sinklar started sleeping with Gretta? "

  "No, but that-"

  "And nothing will change with A Section unless you make a big thing about it."

  "But we're not sleeping together!" Mac vented an exasperated sigh, then grinned. "My woman? That would suit me fine. But what would it do to you?"

  She stepped away, head bowed. "Mac, I . She shook her head vigorously. "Foolish of me, isn't it? I ran to you, huddled under your wing, and I'm balking. "

  He gave her his best smile. "If you ever come to my bed, I want you there without any reservations. In the meantime, we'll just deal with it day by day.

  "

  She stepped close and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you. Now, you'd better hurry, you've got to be in Ward Room F in ten minutes to review the exercise with your Corporal Firsts. After that, you've got to check in with Rysta, see if she has any revisions for the Ashtan plans. We're dropping out of null singularity in ten hours, so you'd better get some sleep before drop.

  Depending on what comes in on comm, you might not get much afterward.

  "All right, all right."

  "And in the meantime, do you want me to deal with the LC maintenance scheduling? Or should I delegate that to Boyz?

  "Delegate it." Mac reshuffled his thoughts, trying to sort out his course of action. "I want you to concentrate on Ashtan. That's top priority."

  "Affirmative. Time for your meeting

  He nodded, wondering how he'd look his Group leaders in the face, and then he stopped. "I could tell them the truth about us."

  She shook her head, a weary smile on her lips. "Trust me, it would just make matters worse. The best policy is not to say anything."

  "Staffa is going to hear about this. It won't be pleasant." Chrysla smiled wearily. "I don't know how Staffa will react. Mac, we'll worry about it when the time comes. We may not even live that long."

  Skyla sat in the cockpit, dull stare fixed on the stars visible through the tactite. Stat boards indicated normal operation as Rega One decelerated toward Terguz. Her leg ached from the position she'd pulled it into. To ease the discomfort she shifted and continued to twirl a strand of white-blonde hair around and around her finger.

  Cleaning the air filters had been a threshold of a sort. Given the care the rest of the ship had received while docked off Rega, the filters, too, would have been cleaned. That mess she'd found could be blamed on no one but her.

  Only a couple of hours ago, she'd sobered up in the bedroom, haunted by the same repetitive nightmare. She'd been in Ily's interrogation room, suffer
ing in misery as she told Ily about Chrysla, about Staffa's love, and how Arta had been cloned. It always came back to that. Arta and Chrysla and defeat. Skyla had howled, animallike, with rage and horror as she betrayed Staffa to the pacing Ily. And when it was all over, a door had opened in the wall, and she'd seen herself stepping through into an Itreatic hallway. It had to be her, wearing gleaming white armor, her long ice-blonde hair braided and clipped to her shoulder. Except, for a brief instant, the image hesitated and looked back.

  Skyla shivered and tugged at the hair she'd wound around her finger. The eyes were wrong. She'd looked back at herself, and Arta's eyes had burned amber in Skyla's own face. Then the apparition had stepped through the door and closed it with a wrenching finality. Ily's laughter rang hollowly to haunt her.

  "Sick dream."

  Another awareness had stunned her, this one not of nightmare, but of the dried vomit, of the filth that streaked the floor. Empty drinking bulbs littered the corridors and corners. The galley was a shambles. In defiance of every spacer's etiquette, even the pry bar had been left in the same spot where she'd tossed it. Most of the ship's liquor supplies had been exhausted.

  So she sat uncomfortably, aware of so much. Aware of how tight her suit had become on her thighs and belly. Aware of the flaccid muscles in her body and the haggard look in her eyes. Aware, too, of the message locked in the electronic memory in the message comm.

  How much of yourself have you lost, Skyla? She closed her eyes, misery her only companion. Too much?

  She reached out hesitantlyand pulled her finger back. Not now.'She'd play the message later, when she felt better. "And when is that, Skyla? An hour from now? Tomorrow? The day after? How about when you've docked at Terguz? A year? How about after you're dead?"

  Wisps of the past slipped through her mind. She had retrieved the blaster from its hiding place. In her haste, she'd fumbled the charge pack. That second had given Arta time to trigger the collar.

  Defeat, the sapping loneliness of it lingered. She'd given Arta everything she wanted, just to save a shred of dignity when she appeared before Ily . . . and to what avail? The Regan viper had stripped her, fed her the Mytol, and Skyla had talked.

  Ifailed you, Staffa.

  The stars shimmered, eternal and unconcerned, some smeared splashes of light, others fine pinpoints, unhazed by the Forbidden Borders.

  Skyla replayed the entire sequence of events. The message from I)rklat; Staffa's objections to her going out; the capture; waking up bound and naked while Arta stroked her body; the long duel between them-Skyla seeking first to regain control, then to kill herself; and at last, the final failure.

  She sighed wearily, shaking,her head. "So? What next? How long are you going to wallow in it, Skyla? "

  She closed her eyes, afterimages of the stars burning against the back of her eyelids. Ijust can't ... can't . . . Too exhausted to cry, Skyla reached down and pulled the

  vibraknife from the scabbard on her belt. Lifting the blade before her, she studied the pale white ceramic blade. When she pressed the stud to energize the power pack, the ceramic blurred around the edges.

  Being cut by a vibraknife caused no pain. The energized blade could skip through bone or shave metal.

  "So what are you going to do, Skyla? " She cupped the hilt, lifting the weapon before her eyes. "If you're going to live, fix yourself. Do it right now. If you're going to give up, get it over with. "

  With a thumb, she switched the blade off, knotting a fist around the contoured handle. A single hot tear escaped the corner of her eye to course down the scar on her cheek.

  Before she could lose her nerve, she pressed the replay on the message comm.

  As she feared, Staffa's face formed, sincerity in his clear gray eyes. The light overhead shot scintillating colors through his jeweled hair clip.

  ' 'Skyla, I'm taking a long shot on this. I'm sending it narrow beam along your vector of departure. If you don't pick it up, well, perhaps the Forbidden Borders will listen in.

  Before I say anything else, I want you to know how sorry I am that I didn't spend more time with you. Perhaps I could have been there when you really needed to talk . . . or just be held."

  Skyla blinked back the urge to bawl, chewing on the knuckle of her thumb instead.

  "I understand, Skyla. I know why you left. I only wish you would have told me.

  " He gave her a wry smile. "I suppose I might have balked at first, but in the end I would have told you the same things I'm telling you now.

  " Go with my blessing and my love. If you need anything, contact me immediately. I trust you to do what you have to, and I'll back you on any decision you make or any action you take. The resources of Itreata and the Companions are at your disposal. I know you will use them wisely. "

  He paused, a pained expression barely concealed. "You should also know that I love you desperately and want you back safe and well. Perhaps things would have been easier if Chrysla hadn't magically reappeared from the dead, but she, too, has left on much the same mission you have."

  His earnest stare bored into the monitor. "She and I will care for each other forever, but the love we shared . . . that was for another time. I have a different lover now, and I want you back. You have to answer your own questions, Skyla. Only you can find your way through the damage Arta and Ily dealt you. When you find those answers, I want you to know that I'll be waiting for you."

  Skyla choked on a sob. How much better if he'd stormed, screamed, demanded that she return.

  "Your registry is cleared on the yacht, Rega One. I attended to all the loose ends. Security has incorporated your code into the system. Itreata comm can handle any other difficulties. I leave it up to your judgment." He paused.

  "Sinklar and I are spacing for Targa and Makarta. You can reach us there.

  Beyond that, Kaylla will know how to get in touch with me.

  "One last warning. You're hurting. Take your time. Think before you act. I have faith in you."

  Staffa paused. "But if I could give you a word of advice, I'd steer clear of Etaria. Speaking from personal experience, I can tell you they have a limited sense of humor when it comes to Companions. Good luck, Skyla. I love you."

  The monitor went blank for a moment, then began running a Seddi report from Imperial Sassa.

  Skyla barely heard. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. He trusts you. He loves you. Self-destruction was so much easier when no one believed in you.

  When Kaylla straightened, her head hit the corner of the supply cabinet with a hollow thump. The blow was enough to dance stars before her eyes, and she grabbed the counter with one hand to stabilize herself while she rubbed her scalp with the other. She'd come to the supply room on a pretext, really.

  Anything to get out of the chair for a while, to rest her aching eyes from the holographic glow of the monitor. A headache that had been a mild aggravation behind her eyes now gleefully stabbed pain through her brain.

  Wilm watched her with concern, the corners of his mouth pinched. "Magister, please, be careful. "

  "Who put this here! It's a dumb place for a cabinet." She closed her eyes, hating the irritating pain as she fingered the soft spot that would become a lump under her straight brown hair.

  Wilm's expression turned placid. "We're all glad you're knocking yourself out for humanity, but don't you think a day of rest might be in order?"

  Kaylla stared at the box of data cubes she'd bent down to get, a gritty feeling in her eyes. She'd been retrieving supplies from this same set of drawers since she'd landed in Itreata. Now, for the second time in days, she'd smacked her head on the cabinet corner.

  Angrily, she tossed the data cubes to Wilm. "Take those to the main terminal, would you please? I've got to get another cup of stassa, then I'll get back to the reports. I think something's brewing on Phillipia. That idiot Hanks is up to something. We're expecting a statement any time."

  "Magister," Wilm said softly. "Get some sleep, will you? I know what you're goi
ng to do. You're going to go back and draw another cup of stassa, and then you're going to swallow another stim pill. Seriously, Magister, how long do you think you can keep abusing yourself and still maintain a level head?"

  :'If so much weren't happening right now . Yes, yes, and when won't it be?"

  Next month. The month after? How should I know. Maybe we'll never have any peace again, Wilm. Look, we've got to face the grim reality of our situation. Every planet in Free Space is steaming, building pressure. If we can defuse that, buy a little more time for Staffa's people to deploy and for the Mag Comm to take over administration, that might just make the difference."

  The expression on Wilm's black face didn't give.

  I IWilm, by the quanta, what would we do? How would we feel if it turned out that we missed the opportunity to head off a disaster before it went critical?

  That's the responsibility we face right now. You and I didn't ask for it, but the future of all those people out there is in our hands. You've seen the tapes from Imperial Sassa. Well, I'm not going to have images like those staring at me from all over Free Space. I've been there, on the ground, seen and lived the nightmare of death, hunger, and suffering. If it means pushing myself past what's reasonable, I'll do it. I won't live the rest of my life roasting my conscience in the reactor of guilt, wondering if there was something I could have done to have stopped it."

  Wilm's implacable gaze softened slightly. "I understand, Magister. We all feel that way. But if you keel over from exhaustion, or suffer a breakdown, what do we-and all those people out there-do then?"

  She pointed a finger at the doorway. "Ivet needs those data cubes now. Get cracking."

  He gave her a slight nod and turned, padding silently into the corridor.

  Pus Rot you, Kaylla, what if he's right? She remained braced on the countertop and closed her eyes for a moment's blissful peace. She cleared her mind to the extent that the nagging headache would allow her. If only she could stand here like this for a couple of hours, knees braced, eyes closed, only the soft hum settling down from the air vents to bathe her.

  Teeth gritted, she shoved herself straight and walked out, turning left in the neat white corridor to find the dispenser. From the machine she selected a meat roll, cheese bar, and energy stick, chewing -mechanically as she filled a cup with stassa and added mint flavoring. From her belt pouch, she took one of the stim pills Wilm had warned her against and hesitated before replacing it.